Edge of the Empire: Book 05: Enter the Unknown
by Robert Preston Matthews
Summary: Once I was asked, "When a being is gone, how shall he be remembered? What makes them worth remembering? Is it their lineage, or by their great deeds?" I didn't have and answer then. Now I believe they won't be remembered by their deeds, but by how they faced the consequences of those actions. Heros need not speak if their deeds, for when they are gone, we shall speak for them.
1. Forward

Chapter 0: Forward:

Before we get into the next installment of the Jarek Orion's tale I figure some "behind the scenes" time was warranted. Warning I tend to ramble.

If you've been following these stories from the beginning (IE. read the Forward in Mandalorian Outcast.) You'll know that Star Wars is a big part of my interest. Films, TV Shows, Books, Comics, Games; I take them all in. Despite the opinions of many, I have always found something to enjoy about each aspect of the Star Wars Universe in all its formats. I am a fan first. Most recently Solo has rated high on my list. Mainly because I've always preferred the gritty, seedy underworld of Star Wars. Jabba's palace and the Cantina scene are among my favorite moments in the films.

I did warn you I rambled, but back to the matter at hand.

The Mandalorian stories are written to run as canonically to the rest of the films and TV series as much as possible. I have no intention of rewriting or dismissing anything Disney has made now or sense. As an added challenge, so long as the two don't contradict, I tried include/reference both Legends and Canon. As I've stated Jarek is an original character with his own stories and adventures. He is not a bargain bin Han Solo or Boba Fett. Neither are the members of his crew. If you go into the story expecting a paper cutout of one of the main characters from original trilogy/prequels then I'm sorry but you'll be disappointed.

The story of Jarek Orion has been a labor of love inspired by the joy I've gotten from the Star War Universe. I can only hope some of that is shared with you, my readers.

Now we get behind the scenes: Jarek and his crew were characters created using Fantasy Flight's Star Wars RPG games. Their adventures were inspired by the Edge of the Empire Beginner Game, Long of the Hutt Expansion, and the Lords of Nal Hutta Module Adventures. Note: I only used the basic outlines of the modules; all character interactions and dialogue are original or inspired by the various game groups I've played with, past and present.

The original title of the arc was "The Mandalorian" with each episode named after the module it was based on. Unfortunately when Disney announced "The Mandalorian" TV series I figured it was better to rename the episodes as they are today. Each title (Outcast, Servant, Fugitive, and Captain) reflects the main character's physical and mental state of being. To be fair, I started writing these stories way back in 2016 after I reenlisted in the Army, so technically I'd nabbed the title well before Disney announced the series (not that I could copyright it anyway) Just an FYI fun-fact.

When I started writing I'd just moved into my new apartment with no internet or TV and barely enough cash to feed myself. Just my laptop and a few notebooks. Some members of my church were generous enough to give a table, chairs, bed, and couch. It was Spartan but I didn't need much to be comfortable. Out of sheer boredom, I start rereading some of my old writing and watching old movie clips I'd downloaded. I was watching Tony Stark escape captivity in the first Iron-Man, and I recalled thinking "You know I could just see my Mandalorian Character doing that." The idea held so much appeal that I wrote out the sequence in the form of a short story titled "In Iron Clad." It was so much fun I wrote a second story and then two more after that. I really liked them but unfortunately, I had no plot or even a proper antagonist for my hastily assembled crew. Sadly it became very clear a reboot was required.

On the outset, Jarek started off as a generic Mandalorian Mercenary/Bounty Hunter with a very transparent personality. A shameless author insert if ever I saw one. Fortunately, as I matured so did my writing and my character. That being said I still drew heavy inspirations from some of my favorite movies, games, and my own personal experiences. Quick hint: If at any point an event is described to an almost uncomfortable degree chances are I experienced something similar. I would just put a bit of Star Wars flare on it.

Confession time: If you've read Mandalorian Outcast, and play video games you might recognize the story flow. I shamelessly borrowed the opening events from Horizon Zero Dawn. What can I say it was a great introduction. The events of Aloy's childhood/adolescence (while not original) was the perfect mold to structure Jarek's own experiences. A child, shunned by his clan, raised by an old warrior, and seeking a place in the world is an old trope, but a good one. Elements of Kratos and Atreus's (God of War 4) relationship were also thrown in. I did my best to use just the story outlines to facilitate the flow of dialogue and avoid any copy/paste. Originally Mandalorian Servant was going to be Episode 1, but I decided that Jarek needed a much more comprehensive back story that justified his skill and personality. While it fleshed out his character there are still a lot of unanswered questions. One of them being "Who was his mother and father and why was he given to clan Orion to be raised?" Trust me those questions will be answered, just not today.

The Timeline: I understand I wasn't clear with when the events of the story took place. So to help you out the time-line is as follows. Jarek was born before the events of "The Phantom Menace" during the Mandalorian Civil War. His childhood take place between Episode 1 and Episode 2. "Outcast" ends just two years after the death of Duchess Satine and the fall of the Republic.

Quick History Lesson: For my Star Wars fan not as deep into the EU as others; the revelation that Jarek had been training to join Death Watch was meant to shock. Depending on your perspective Death Watch was a radical militant group within the Mandalorian culture. The Civil War fought between the forces of Death Watch and those aligned with the New Mandalorians under Satine, and the True Mandalorian lead by Jaster Mereel. During the Clone Wars, they were more like a terrorist organization. So why did Clan Orion support them and why did Jarek want to join them? One man's terrorist is another man's hero. What you have to understand as that outside of Satine's immediate sphere of influence Death Watch had its supporters and sympathizers. Kalevala was mentioned in-universe during the Clone Wars animated series suffering random attacks from Death Watch. In Jarek's mind the Watch, as its commonly referred to, was a place to belong and make his father proud. So another question that remains to be answered is "Why and how did Jarek leave Death Watch?" I'll go ahead and warn you the answer isn't what you'd expect.

In Mandalorian Servant, we catch up with Jarek four years later on Tattooine. The Empire's strength is still growing but it has yet to become the oppressive juggernaut feared across the galaxy. The Rebellion has yet to even be discovered, though some scattered dissident groups do exist.

Let's talk about the bad guys. First up is Myler. Myler is complicated, to say the least. His motivations are pretty self-explanatory. He wants desperately to a part of the clan again and is willing to hunt his own son to do it. Whether or not he's willing to kill his son to obtain his goal remains to be seen. He still loves his son very deeply but his duty to the clan runs deeper. Which brings up another long unanswered question: "Why was Myler exiled?" Answers to all those questions are coming, and they may surprise you.

The villains are all pretty one dimensional at this point with the expectation of Myler. It's Star Wars after all. The Bad guys are over the top and very dramatic. Gaegan is a complicated yet uncomplicated villain. He's mainly used as a foil for Myler at this point. While Myler is calm and calculated with mixed emotions about his son, Gaegan is brash with very pure motivations. He, the "true" Mandalorian, is obsessed with proving his superiority over Jarek the "outcast." A complex that was multiplied by the loss of his eye (which will also be detailed later on) But it's not enough to beat Jarek (he's defeated him during the Verd'Goten after all) he wants Jarek to know he's superior all the way down to his core. Gaegan wants to break him. Like I said dude's got a complex.

Of the antagonists, Myler is more of a psychological antagonist, while Gaegan is the physical antagonist. As described in the final chapters of "Mandalorian Captain" Gaegan has wounded Jarek on a physical level in the past and now again by taking a member of his crew (though one could argue its as much a physiological blow as physical) On the other hand while Gaegan threatens Jarek on a physical level, Myler has the potential to destroy him a mental/emotional level. Up to this point still, Jarek has no idea it's his father leading the hunt and has continuously credited him with all his successes often parroting his lessons from "Outcast." I look forward to writing the angst around the eventual revelation.

Then there is Teklis, the former Imperial Intelligence Officer turned mercenary. Initially, it's very clear he signs on to Myler's crew to get revenge on Jarek, but that is only one of his goals and not even his primary one. Teklis is far more complex than either Myler or Gaegan with motivations that far exceed the narrow focus of Death Watch. If you paid attention you'll recall that his mind is always working. In the original short stories, he was written the main antagonist. His introduction in the reboot has remained largely unchanged from his intro in the short stories. Other then Jarek he's the only character that did not get an extensive rewrite. He's taken a backseat to Myler and Gaegan...for now.

The Crew: Can't go behind the scenes without talking about the crew. The crew was inspired by one of my favorite sci-fi series ever; Firefly. I wanted a group of individuals thrown together by circumstance and behave like a dysfunctional family. Each member fills a role according to the five-man-band trope. Jarek is not a Jack of all trades, and given his past, he has a lot of blind spots. He knows how to fight and survive on his own, but that's really the extent of his knowledge. The crew fill in the supporting roles (that flow into one another as the situation dictates)

Jarek was the leader obviously with Slick/Madlyn trading off as his Lancer. Lancers are like the second in command and serve a foil to the leader. Jarek is brooding and emotionally distant but loyal to a fault. He also acts as a close-range fighter. Madlyn and Slick practically overflow with affection for one another and reflect Jarek's inward desire to be close to another. Despite their very different backgrounds, they represent an almost ideal couple; honest, totally devoted to one another and unashamed to show it. They are friends first and a couple second. Madlyn acts as the crew's pilot, while Slick specializes as a long-range fighter and scout.

Era fills the role of the Heart. The Heart is the emotional center of the group and more often then not also acts as the group's healer. In this instance, Era's role as a healer is more situational rather than a specialization. She is not a doctor by any stretch of the word. It's her knowledge of culture and history that benefits the crew most. Era also fills the role of Jarek's love interest. I never really liked the whole will-they-wont-they romantic subplots that perforate all levels of entertainment. Both Jarek and Era fall more into the area of "I like you, you like me, let's see if this works." Sure they both have their own baggage, but don't we all? Jarek has never been a real relationship so he's unsure exactly how to proceed, while Era knows what she wants but understands Jarek has some stuff to work out. That still doesn't stop them from trying to find happiness. Hard to see if a relationship based upon such a short incubation period will last. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

Moving on.

Tersen is the Smart-Guy. Though short in stature he makes up for it with insane amounts of technological know-how. It's always safe to assume he's in the background tinkering with something. If you paid attention throughout "Mandalorian Captain" Tersen was constantly giving Jarek's armor upgrades alongside repairing Gare and the ship. He finds comfort in mechanical things, which was why he got along so well with Gare. The pair had a very symbiotic/sibling relationship. He and Era were the only characters to survive the earlier mentioned reboot alongside Jarek. Of the crew, Tersen has gotten the least amount of character development, but that will change, dear reader.

And that just leaves Gare, the Tank. I feel bad that of the crew his species has so very little information outside of Fantasy Flight's "Lords of Nal Hutta." It was even harder to write about it as he was raised amongst slaves. A lot of what I expressed about Ganks in the stories are what I've expanded upon from the book. At first glance, he was just the big bruiser of the crew. Easily the toughest of them all. Initially, he came across as ruthless with a high sense of self-preservation. In actuality, it was a willingness to put himself in harm's way for the sake of others. I confess when I first wrote the character I fully intended for him to betray the crew very early on. At the time he really didn't have much agency as anything other than a villain. Potentially becoming a reoccurring antagonist. I am so glad I didn't. Gare quickly reveals that amongst the crew he is the most selfless and that no matter what the others thought he would do whatever it took to protect his pack...his family. Even at the expense of his own life.

Deleted One-Shots: You might've noticed that the crew did have some downtime between or even during jobs. I had come up with some interlude moments depicting what the crew did in these moments. In one scene while the crew is visiting New Meen to retrieve some Ryll Madlyn and Slick get an impromptu ball-game going between the locals and the crew. It was a short scene written just to showcase how close the crew was with the citizens of New Meen. There were several one-shots of short interactions between crewmembers like Slick and Gare having a shooting contest, Jarek trying and failing to teach Tersen how to cook, Era's flying lessons, all with plenty comical banter. A final scene involves Era getting the entire crew to sit down and watch a holovid together. I based that scene heavily on my own family movie nights where someone always hogs the popcorn, two more won't stop arguing about a scene and Dad telling everyone to shut up. Also, I couldn't find a place to fit the scene in. Let me know if you'd like to see a compilation of these one-shots.

In conclusion: This story has been a joy to write. I've experienced a wide range of emotions while it progressed. I've found myself cheering, crying and laughing when, in my mind, I finally work out a character's reaction to an event. I want my characters to succeed and thrive but I know that in both real-life and in the Star Wars that is not always the case. We live, love, and lose. But we also learn.

Gare's death was not an easy thing to write. The crew's reaction was also difficult. I've buried many loved ones, some way before their time, and it's difficult to put that raw grief into words. Dear readers I don't enjoy torturing my characters needlessly, and none of them are strangers to death, but Gare's murder is something none of them have actually experienced before. I wish I could explain in detail what I mean and how, but I can't. I'd risk spoiling the next Episode. I will tell you this...things change. The crew all have some grieving to do, and each in their own way. This will not be an action-packed installment, but it is one with plenty of character development and revelations that will change the course of events to come.

To my dedicated readers who've been with me from the beginning or just recently joined I say thank you. Thank you, so much for traveling with me on this journey. Thank you for the positive reviews. I only wish my talent for writing met the standards you deserve and what my characters deserve. I'm still learning. As my skills improve I would expect older chapters to be edited to reflect that. The _Outcast_ has flown many light-years and has many many more to go. What has transpired on the Edge of the Empire is only a small fraction of what this wonderfully diverse universe has to offer. Sadly we all know that an Age of Rebellion looms on the distant horizon. In a galaxy ruled by Force and Destiny this crew, this family may have to choose aside.

Always remember by dear readers; God is Great and the Force will be with you...always.


	2. Chapter 1 Shock

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Star Wars**

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 1: Shock**

**Onboard the **_**Outcast**_**:**

The med-bay was now silent. The ship's engines provided the only ambiance. The steady hum was only interrupted by the occasional beep of medical equipment. It was surreal to think that only hours before the room had been filled with the keening wails of the crew. 

Era didn't know how long the tears flowed, but in the end, they were halted by Jarek's gentle command. They couldn't stay on Pybus. It wasn't safe. Everyone was still in shock, but somehow the crew decided to return to New Meen. It was the closest thing the _Outcast_ had to a home port, and it seemed the most fitting place to give their friend a proper funeral.

Everyone, including Era, moved with a sort of numb detachment towards various tasks. The trip back to Ryloth was a long one, and everyone seemed desperate to find something to occupy the time. Madlyn had gone to the bridge, while Tersen stumbled to the engine room. Once Era had given her approval, Slick limped after his girlfriend.

Jarek was the last to leave, aside from being the captain he was unsure of where he could be useful. Era suggested he try and get some rest. Once she'd finished with Jacek and Gare, she'd give him a proper examination. His face was as unreadable as his helmet. There was no telling just how hurt he was. She gave him something for the pain he would be in once his mind caught up with his body. The Mandalorian nodded wordlessly before exiting.

Now only she, Jacek, and Gare remained. With an effort of will, she pushed her emotions down so that she could concentrate on what needed to be done. Her trained analytical mind took over. Jacek still needed work, and Gare's body couldn't-shouldn't be left in such a sad state and none of the crew members were in the right frame of mind to do what needed to be none. 

Era had already stabilized the smuggler en-route to the _Outcast._ Using the equipment available in the med-bay she was able to close the wound properly. She even managed to save his kidney. He'd have a hellacious scar but at least he'd live.

Which was more then she could say for Gare. It didn't seem right leaving him as he died, swathed in battered and bloody armor. It had taken Era the better part of an hour to build up the courage to begin preparing his body for burial. When she did, it was at a slow and methodical pace. Several times she'd paused to steady her emotions before continuing. Once she'd removed his armor, the archaeologist had made a point to clean and examine his wounds.

At one point the old man had roused from his sleep. Once he'd learned Gare's fate he'd said nothing. He remained still and watched the archaeologist work. In the silence that followed Jacek lay, his hands still gripping the Siren's Song.

The artifact had scarcely left his grasp even when he'd lapsed in and out of consciousness. But at that moment it wasn't the cluster of shimmering crystal that possessed the smuggler's vision. His gaze was fixed forlornly on the figure lying opposite draped in the shroud of the dead.

"I'm ashamed to admit it," Jacek intoned weakly.

It took her a moment to realize Jacek had even spoken. "Hmm?" She was in the middle of preparing Gare's body, and so didn't bother to look back at her patient.

"When I first met Gare, I didn't think very highly of him." At his words, Era paused to look back at him. The old man looked pitifully at Gare's face. The gank's countenance was such that he could've been asleep. "I thought he was little more than hired muscle," he explained. "How wrong I was." Sighing he shook his head but winced and went still. 

When he had come to initially he'd asked what had happened. Era only had the heart to say Gare and died saving them. Any more detail threatened to shatter what little emotional fortitude she'd managed to garner. 

The moment he realized Gare was gone he suddenly appeared much older. Though worn and run down by his choice, Jacek had always maintained some small manner of manic determination. Now he looked as if all the trials of the intervening years had settled upon his face at once. It made him look all the sadder. His eyes reflected the white light with unshed tears.

Era looked away hoping to preserve some of the man's dignity, but unfortunately, that made her focus on the ruined state of her friend's body. She felt a cold stab of anger and sadness as she beheld the damage wrought by Gaegan. Though she was a healer a part of her hoped Jarek had made the Death Watchman suffer. The Era from University would've been appalled by the thought.

But in the end, it didn't help with the task at hand and the rage fizzled out. It was followed by a wave of guilt which was quickly stomped out by her rational mind. The process repeated itself until she was numb.

Even had she been there. Even had they gotten him to a med-center, Era couldn't be sure he'd have survived. The _beskad_ had completely severed his spine slicing and rupturing several arteries, nerves, and vital organs. Between the trauma and immediate blood-loss, it was amazing he held on as long as he had.

"A fighter," she whispered barely able to keep the trembling out of her voice, "To the end." 

In a way, it felt cathartic tending to his body. She hadn't been able to save his life, but perhaps she could do him the honor of preparing him for death. She took her time cleaning the blood from around the wound before applying a patch to hide the hole. Then she set to work on his face. Era wondered why he bothered with the mask. The wolfine contours of his expression, while intimidating were also elegant when they were relaxed. In his repose, she could almost see what he would've looked like had he been born free. Before a lifetime of slavery and fighting for a Hutt's pleasure had carved too many hard edges into his expression.

Pity and empathy twisted in her gut. Her heart ached to know that Gare would never know a life of peace. Hands clenched as she imagined the brutal violence of his death and a part of her wondered if his spirit would be able to find rest in such torment.

Invocations she'd long thought forgotten came unbidden. Childhood memories of the chancel on Mirial flashed through her thoughts. The words fell from her lips as if she'd never stopped reciting them. "Oh you fates," she whispered, "Gentle and strong, merciful and cruel." Her hand found his. The cold absence of life made her shiver, but she still gripped it tightly. Her eyes closed as the old prayer came as naturally as breathing. "Take this spirit and lead him upon the winds of your guidance and discretion. Allow him peace within the unifying providence of his life."

By the time she looked up, she found Jacek was staring at her. Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep into her cheeks she busied herself with finishing up the preparations. She decided to remove his shattered cybernetic arm and wondered if Tersen would be up to replacing it. Gare deserved to be whole at his funeral.

After awhile Jacek asked, "Fate is the faith of your people?"

Era had known the question would come. Similar queries always arose whenever someone heard her prayers or witnessed her prostrations. Sense leaving Mirial for University she quickly found out that the wider population of the Galaxy did not believe the same as her. Though they were too polite to say anything she knew her classmates and professors found her spiritualism amusing if not pointless. With her studies demanding more and more of her time she found herself spending less time in contemplation. Eventually, she stopped all together accepting that the beliefs of her ancestors were outdated and no longer appropriate for contemporary times.

And yet here she was, reciting the chants as if she were a child kneeling in service. Like nothing had changed. "_But so much has changed_," she thought grimly.

"My people are...deeply spiritual," she explained, speaking carefully, "We – they practiced a primitive understanding of the Jedi religion. They believed each individual's actions contributed to their destiny, building upon past successes and failures to drive them towards their fates."

As she spoke more memories rose up playing upon her already tormented soul. Her father had been understanding, but there had been no hiding the sadness and disappointment in his eyes. Though he'd been upset when she'd announced her desire to drop out of University, it paled in comparison to her denouncement of their – his beliefs. Dropping out had angered him, but the moment she'd abandoned her faith had been what truly broke his heart.

"_Do you still pray for me papa_," she wondered feeling a sudden tightness in her chest at the thought. Out loud she continued to explain. "Within their belief system was the view that individual actions ripple through the Force, also affecting the destiny of our species as a whole." She made sure he understood what she was referring to. He nodded in acknowledgment that he was familiar with the old religion. Era pressed on almost grateful for the distraction. "Because the Force was understood through the notion of the Cosmic Force on a basic level, the cultural significance of the energy was defined as fate. Those who were not sensitive to its call still had faith in fate, and felt that it guided their lives."

Jacek asked a few more questions, and Era answered to the best of her abilities. It had been so long since she'd studied the philosophies of her people, but her eidetic memory proved that her past was never too far out of reach. It felt good revisiting the old lessons. The more she spoke the less her heart seemed to ache. They reminded her of simpler, happier times.

"Beings die," Jacek stated softly. At present death was understandably a tender subject. He paused and waited until Era nodded for him to continue. "but is that something we make as a choice? Or is it the other way round of having fate choose us the death?"

Era thought on his question. Her answer came in the form of one of her father's philosophical sermons. The thought made her want to smile and weep at the same time. Instead, she began her explanation, doing her best to channel her father's wisdom. 

"The only single perennial truth of one's existence is that we all perish and that our choices falter. Choosing to die or fated to die, doesn't epitomize one's existence.

But, it has a literal subjugation one might ponder upon. Is it possible to denote death with either a choice or the fate, since all die at the end? Death is just an end of the journey none of us choose for ourselves."

"We're all born of a mother, but was it our choice?" he challenged still keeping his voice soft with a touch of hopeful curiosity.

"Certainly not, maybe our parents choice," she replied moving to cover Gare's body once more out of respect. She paused only briefly to collect her thoughts. "So how can one call the death which is the other essential dichotomous end of Birth, to be a choice?" They continued on Jacek posing a question and Era answered. With each inquiry, it felt like her father was in the room delivering the lesson instead of her. 

Does one choose their death or is it possible to choose a death? Gare may not have wanted to die, but he certainly didn't shy from the prospect. He stood firm expecting whatever fate might throw at him. 

But what about the choices they made daily? The choices that lead them to Pybus, that drove them away from Mos Shuuta or guided them all to the Outer Rim.

That's where they are bestowed by their fate to make choices. The irony of Life is that all beings get to choose some, while there are others which one really can't choose upon. And that's fate. 

"Fate is certainly not an option that can be made," her father had once preached, "Just like the way, we think a stone is a stone and it can't be water. They are fated to become one of those. Now, a stone certainly doesn't have the luxury to choose upon getting thrown or crushed. Well, that's our presumption. They can resist. And that's their fate. Fate is something which bestows some precept for the way things are supposed to be, upon which we have no knowledge." When he gave his benedictions to the huddled children of the cloister father had always looked resplendent in his scapula. "Life is filled with more mysteries than we have found answers for. And this Life encompasses the whole universe and the cosmic force as a whole, which some are never fated to know. So do we make choices here or is it already there in our fate?"

In a more direct lesson, her father explained that fate has a collective symposium, wherein everyone is interlinked with all other sentients. "But do we make choices of who we are to meet today or tomorrow? Certainly not. Its there in our fate. Fate is the bigger part." A rueful small spread across his lips. 

"But, this shouldn't discourage people to make some bold or good choices they think would do them good or good for the others. Choices certainly exist. And it's our fate of being alive that gives us a multitude of choices to make for ourselves, unlike the stone. We have an advantage over the stones in most of the matters, and that's what we are fated to do." 

Beings make choices daily, but do they know what those choices would lead to? Never! All they can have is some approximations about the consequences of the choices they make, but certainly not about the end that it would lead to. So approximation and fate are two different contexts. One is a probable fate or an improbable fate and other is the final verdict. 

Imminent death is certainly not a choice, its all there within their fate. It all comes down to how one faces it. 

Era felt breathless by the time the conversation wound down. Like she had run the length of the ship and back, but in the place of her sadness, she sensed a small bit of euphoria beginning to develop. It felt as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders and a familiar and welcome warmth seeped back into her soul.

"He saved my life on Pybus," Jacek stated. Era looked at the old man with a curious expression. Jacek was no longer looking at the mirialin. He was staring at Gare's reclining form. For a moment his eyes took on a faraway look as if a memory was playing out across his vision. 

"It may have been my fate to die in that hole, but he saved me," Jacek whimpered, eyes glistening, "And I never thanked him." Grunting with an effort he sat up in obvious pain. Era tried to stop him but the old man waved her off. They locked eyes and Era saw the look of grim determination on his face. Era knew it was her that had dragged him from the crumbling tomb that was Vortga's vault, but it had been Gare who carried him bodily out of that place to safety. She'd perhaps saved him from himself, by Gare had saved his life.

Nodding in understanding, she stepped back.

Taking a deep breath Jacek levered himself upward until he was standing next to Gare's gurney. The Siren's Song, which up until that point he'd clung to his chest for dear life, was placed ever so gently on the table next to Gare's head. He looked down at the serine figure of his savior. "Thank you, Gare of the _Outcast, _for saving this old burnt out spacer." He caught Era's eye before closing his eyes and bowing his head. "You did more then you will ever know." The moisture shimmering at the edges of his vision trickled along the crags of his face. "Thank you," he added in a soft quivering tone.

Era looked upon the exchange in bewilderment. Jacek had spent years searching for the Siren's Song, sacrificing everything to find it, and now he was just giving it up? It didn't make sense to her. At first. Then the realization dawned on her just as a lump rose in her throat.

The treasure was meaningless to Jacek now, because Gare had given him something far more valuable. An opportunity to make amends. To become the man he once was. By saving him, Gare had given him hope for the future. Given her hope. For in his death had he not helped the mirialin rediscover what she'd thought lost?

"Thank you," Era whispered, the tears once more running down her cheeks. She wasn't sure if she was addressing Jacek or Gare. Maybe both. She couldn't explain it, but somewhere she could've sworn she felt her father smile.


	3. Chapter 2 Denial

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Star Wars**

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 2: Denial**

**Onboard the **_**Outcast**_**:**

"By the time you get here, everything will be ready." Bura'Bon's hologram flickered and faded as he spoke. Despite the interference of hyperspace his voice came through clear and strong.

Slick had to swallow the lump in his throat before speaking. "Thank you, Bura. I..." he swiped savagely at a stray tear. Throughout the conversation, it'd been difficult to maintain his composure. "What you're doing...It means a lot."

The one remaining lekku curled empathetically as he bowed. Through the grainy transmission, Slick could see the sadness in his eyes before the hologram blinked out. Slumping back into the pilot's chair the pantoran took a deep breath. Rubbing his eyes he expelled it in a long shuddering sigh. In the darkness he saw Gare's bloody corpse...bereft if life...and he could hear Tersen's heart wrenching cry.

They grieved-oh how they grieved, but they still had jobs to do. Pybus wasn't safe. They had to leave.

At Jarek's orders the crew had dispersed; Tersen to the engine room, while Era stayed behind with Jacek. Jarek lingered in the med-bay, probably to assist. Slick and Maddy headed for the bridge to begin the launch sequence. The further from the moon they got the better.

"_But one of us...will never truly leave_," he thought bitterly, not bothering to stop the tears this time. He didn't care, there was no one else on the bridge to witness. Upon entering the cargo-hold Maddy had split off, heading directly for the ship's galley. Slick didn't need to ask what she was doing. He hadn't even mounted the step when he heard the distinct sound of a pressure seal being broken.

Once the _Outcast_ within the air he immediately set course for Ryloth. Thanks to the notes found on the other team that had died in the palace, Era had deduced an alternate route that would avoid the Dead Road altogether. Calculations locked in he set the ship on auto-pilot. Slick had then taken it upon himself to contact Bura'Bon and inform him of their arrival.

At first, the old Twi'lek had been surprised and even a bit happy at their unexpected return. That happiness quickly dissolved into a sympathetic understanding. He assured him they'd take care of all the preparations and that the crew was welcome to stay in New Meen for as long as they needed. The outpouring of support had touched Slick in his already aching soul.

None of the crew had given it a second thought; returning to New Meen to lay Gare to rest. It just felt right. It was the closest place they had to a home base. They were all too numb to argue or think of an alternative anyway. They'd have to properly grieve at some point. Brooding would be the worse thing to do, but for now, crewmembers were dealing with the loss each in their way. At least he hoped they were.

What did he know about loss?

Slick was no stranger to death. As a hunter, he'd taken many a worthy prey's life, but always giving the beasts the respect they deserved. Then once he got out to the Outer Rim he learned that sentient life was a cheap commodity and taking life had become more a cost of doing business. But he'd never truly felt a loss.

His parents were still alive as far as he knew, living comfortably back on Pantora. Last he heard his sister Aris had married a financier named Arend. Though he hadn't spoken to them in some time, their parting had been amicable. His trophy hunts had brought their family great pride and had earned Slick a degree of freedom to pursue his own ventures.

Since leaving Pantora he'd only ever cared about one being and that was Madlyn. Then he met Jarek, picked up Era on Onderon. He'd only known Tersen and Gare in passing at Teemo's palace. Then they became a crew...and through the trials of life, sharing in joy, fear, and anger...somehow...they became a family.

"A dysfunctional one at that," he mumbled, smiling through the sadness, "but a family none the less." Gare had seen the manifestation long before any of them and though he hid it behind a mask of gruff indifference, he'd cared about them all. On more than one occasion he had put himself directly in the path of danger to protect them all. He'd allowed himself to be beaten by pirates, had his arm bitten off by a grabworm, and went toe-to-toe with an assassin droid, all to make sure his crew-his pack-would remain safe.

"Damn self-less fool," he said, choking up as a memory floated up from the depths of the hyperspace vortex.

They'd just returned to Nabat to take on another shipment of Ryll. While the cargo was processed and loaded the crew decided to take a few days of R&R. The reprieve had been very welcome. On the second day, he and Gare decided to have a shooting contest to determine who was the better marksmen. It was all in good fun with some healthy banter along the way. Twelve targets later they tied six each. Neither could seem to miss.

His chest tightened at the memory just as much as it filled him with fondness. Lifting the flask that Madlyn had left next to her chair. He raised a toast to the swirling iridescent lights beyond the view-port of the bridge. "I guess we will never know my friend." Smiling he took a long swig.

Surprisingly the whiskey which would've normally burned all the way down to his stomach barely scalded his throat. It had been sliced with a beverage. Madlyn must've been tapering herself off the brew. Slick had certainly noticed that since leaving Teemos' employ the Alderanni's consumption had waned in recent weeks. Perhaps because she was happy and not needing an excuse to numb her negative emotions.

That had most certainly changed.

Once he made sure the nav-computer wouldn't need any adjustments Slick stood. After casting one last look at the entrancing void, he headed for the ship's galley.

Madlyn was sitting at the table one hand cradling her head while the other gripped a half-empty bottle of alcohol. By the label, Slick could tell it was the same brew that had been in the flask. He doubted it had been diluted. Two additional bottles rested nearby, one empty and the other full.

She didn't even look up when he entered, and only acknowledged him when he took a seat next to her. "Sliiiick," she greeted a bit too cheerfully. With flushed cheeks and glazed eyes, she held up the bottle. "Want a drink?" she asked sloshing its contents, "I am toasting Gare." She may have been a bottle and half in, but her weres were just barely slurring. Anyone who didn't know Madlyn Kallos would've thought she was happily drunk. Slick knew better.

Smiling softly he shook his head. Maddy shrugged and took another drink, smacking her lips and sighing in over-exaggerated satisfaction. "We've barely left Pybus an hour ago, love." he said gently, "How'd you get drunk so fast?" The last time he recalled her ever by this hammered was when she'd lost her favorite swoop bike. That was when Slick had first met the troublemaker known as Madlyn Kallos. He hadn't regretted it.

She pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh…" she then leaned in close and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Very carefully."

Sighing Slick picked up the empty bottle. Turning it over he read the label. "Calipsian Whiskey, triple fermented, six cycles old." Slick was by no means a connoisseur of alcohol but he knew enough to recognize that was a quality drink. He didn't recall that particular brand on their manifest the last time they took on supplies. It must've been one of many items left over from the freighters previous owners. "Those pirates had good takes."

Madlyn shrugged taking another gulp. "I thought it was Tharaxian Brandy," she mumbled indifferently. She stared intensely at the bottle clutched in her hand, "getting harder to read the labels. I guess it must be working."

The Pantoran didn't know what to say. Unlike Slick, the Alderanni knew what loss was. Both her parents were gone and she'd lived on her own for most of her life. He was barely coping with his own emotions. Maddy was dealing the only way she knew how; Avoiding the topic by getting herself so thoroughly obliterated she couldn't think straight. Slick knew it was self-destructive, and would only serve to exasperate whatever emotions she was feeling. He'd nursed her back to health whenever Maddy was buzzed, drunk, and hungover, but never grieving. It broke his heart.

Not knowing what else to do he went on instinct. Taking the bottle he took a long drink himself. Madlyn didn't argue. Misery loved company after all. Slick wasn't prepared to get drunk, but at the very least they could commiserate together. Once she'd had her fill he'd take her to their cabin to sleep it off. Somethings never changed it seemed, and she'd been doing so well.

"'We do what we need to keep each other alive.'" Her words took Slick by surprise. He'd heard Gare say something similar. Sh said them in an almost mocking fashion. "Because 'That's what family does.'" she added taking a long draft." It took the Pantoran a moment to realize she was quoting the Gank.

She scoffed before taking another drink. "He just had to go prove himself right. Jerk." Fingers clenched around the bottleneck so hard that Slick feared it might shatter. "With his cybernetics and attitude, and..." the tears dribbled down her face and off her chin. Madlyn looked over at him and their gazes connected. Her vision looked clearer and it became apparent the flush in her cheeks wasn't from the whiskey, it was from sadness. How had he missed that? Guiltity he realized he'd assumed based upon her past that she was drunk. She was drunk, but more than that...she was in pain. "I wish he were here," she mumbled chin quivering.

Reaching forward he rubbed the liquid off her face with the pad of his thumb. He felt ashamed he had seen the extent of her grief sooner. "I am so sorry Maddy," he said apologetically, "I hadn't realized how hard his death had hit you."

"I didn't like him," she stated doing her best to remain indifferent and failing, "Stars he was an arrogant bastard." Sighing she eyed the bottle but didn't take another swig. "But I respected him. Sometimes that's better than liking." She swirled the contents and her eyes took on a faraway contemplative look. "He did whatever it took to help the crew. He never gave in or hesitated, not if it meant protecting us." Slick knew exactly what she was referring too. "Not from hutts, pirates, or grabworms." Her chin started to tremble again as she rubbed at the fresh wave of tears. "He never changed himself to please anyone."

"Ah," Slick sighed realizing what Madlyn was trying to say.

"Don't 'ah' me." she snapped trying to sound angry, but only managed slight annoyance, "You sound like my flight instructors."

Smiling in understanding, Slick placed a consoling hand upon hers, and asked, "Seeing a bit of yourself in Gare?"

Madlyn sniffled but shook her head. "More like seeing what I wish I'd been," she said refusing to look at her boyfriend. He didn't have to see to recognize the angst in her voice. "I spent my whole life taking care of myself. Thinking about only myself. Trying to forget that scrum-rat from Alderaan."

And there it was. The source of her grief. Madlyn felt guilty. Guilty about how selfish she had been throughout her entire life and what that had cost her; her good name, her possessions, and almost her life. Gare, a slave since childhood, had done everything he could to obtain his freedom. Once he had the Gank had every opportunbity to run or betrayed them and he hadn't. Everything he'd done had been to serve and protect the crew of the _Outcast_ in complete disregard of his personal safety or how it affected the group's perception of him. Gare had given all of himself fro a group of strangers and Madlyn had answered that selflessness with mistrust and cold indifference.

The cold knife twisted in Slick's gut when he reminded himself that he hadn't done much better. Even after Gare had saved him and Madlyn in the swamps he hadn't, and the shame of it would forever haunt him. "It's never that easy," he sighed regretfully.

"Why?" their gazes locked once again. Her dark eyes glistened with fresh anguish. "Why is it that the one of us that wants to live the most-who deserves to live the most-dies?" Her shoulders were shaking and the combination of grief and anger poured off of her. "And the ones that deserve to die...keep on living?" And her cheeks were dampened once more. "What's the message in that?"

Slick didn't know what to say. Life wasn't made up of happy endings and bright beginnings. It was a cruel mistress that gave just as easily as it took away. It didn't matter how skilled a pilot was with a ship and how fast a ,mercinary was with a blaster. One wrong move and reality would beat them to the ground and keep them there permanently if they let it. No Hutt, Pirate, or Empire would ever hit them as hard as life.

But Slick had learned the answer to that a long time ago. It wasn't how hard life hit them, it was how they reacted to those blows. They had to keep getting back up no matter how many times life sucker-punched them. Take the pain and move forward...one step at a time...one day at a time.

Madlyn started to take another drink when Slick stopped her. Ever so gently he lowered the bottle before removing it from her grasp entirely. Smiling he tenderly stroked her face. "The answer to that one isn't at the bottom of a bottle, my dear." She looked a frustrated and fit to argue but paused and his calming touch. "Its after the tears and the grief." Madlyn began to sob, but not in sadness. In relief. Taking her in his arms he cradled her as she wept. "And after a proper rest."

After a moment the sobbing paused but she remained pressed into his shoulder. "Tears and grief I've had plenty of," she said, her voice muffled by his jacket, but he felt the weakest of smiles spread across her lips. "I might need help to the cabin for the 'rest' bit."

Slick smiled in spite of the tears he hadn't realized he'd been shedding. Before standing he took the bottle and raised it in a toast. "Here's to Gare," he whispered. Rather than take a drink he pressed his lips to Madlyn's forehead. She shuddered but didn't pull away.

"Rest easy," she added softly, "you cybernetically enhanced, selflessly arrogant jerk...We'll miss you."


	4. Chapter 3 Pain

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 3****: Pain**

**Onboard the **_**Outcast**_**:**

Tools whirred to life as components fit seamlessly together. Wires were soldered, and mother-boards inserted. Optics calibrated then re-calibrated before being inserted into the central housing. Once the repulsor lift drive unit was installed he inserted it into the main thrust port.

Tersen enjoyed tinkering with things. There was a comforting feeling in the repair of broken tech or the modification of existing gear. It always made him feel like he had some level of control over the chaos in his life. Taking a pile of scrap and turning it into a functional piece of equipment filled him with a sense of joy and accomplishment.

Setting the thrust port housing aside, Tersen set to work on the droids small dome. One by one he installed the three visual sensors, followed by the infrared sensor. A quick test revealed all four optics worked like a charm.

Tersen's project was coming along nicely. Honwoo would've been proud.

"A job well done," Honwoo had said on more than one occasion, "Is done one step at a time."

The old rodian had all but adopted Tersen after he'd caught the juvenile lannik in his shop late one night. In truth, Tersen had broken in to steal anything of value. Instead, he found himself enthralled by the partially assembled dune speeder Honwoo had been working on. The Rodian had arrived to find Tersen beneath the hood and getting the craft running. Over the next few years, the old mechanic had taught Tersen everything he knew. Not just about repairing, but also about tools but construction and modification; innovation rather than imitation.

Even working for Teemo had been filled with certain rewards...in hindsight. Though he'd failed reactivate them Tersen had learned much about droids and the finer points of their function and tech. Along with Honwoo's lessons he'd been able to apply that knowledge to his current project.

After testing the four different manipulator arms he locked them into the base of the thrust port. A quick command from his data-pad revealed their reaction and reflex timing was comparable.

The last step was attaching the base to the head. With a click and hiss, the miniature probe droid was fully assembled. Tersen took a moment to admire his work. It had taken him over a month to gather all the necessary parts. Then several long hours of tedious electrical work coupled with writing lines of code to facilitate the amount of processing power his pet project would need. Finally, it was complete.

"Time to wake up little one," he sighed gently touching the activation button. There was a brief wine as the small power core, ripped from a decrepit B1, powered up. The thrust ports hissed as its anti-gravimetric systems kicked into action. ThLights flickered as the droid slowly came to life. It hovered above the table, its manipulators just barely touching the surface.

Tersen's smiled as red optics zeroed in on the face of its creator. It quickly faded when sparks spewed from the main housing. The droid bounced off of the table's edge before clattering to the floor. A pit opened in the technician's stomach. What had gone wrong?

Recovering the droid he ran one diagnostic after another. No issues. He tried to start it up again only for the droid to remain unresponsive. Frustration boiled into annoyance as he ran through the command prompts one by one only to come up empty. For all intents and purposes, the droid should be working.

He stared down at the limp pile of wasted work filled with disgust. All the scavaging, and the man-hours put in and what did he have to show for it? A droid clinging stubbornly to inactivity. It was more than his already wounded morale could take. Lowering his head into his hands Tersen growled in anger. "Why can't I fix this?" he mumbled passed the rising lump in his throat. The heavy weight of depression began to fill the pit in his stomach.

"Having a problem Tersen?"

The technician squeaked in surprise, nearly jumping out of his skin. Era stood already halfway into the engine room. He'd been so wrapped up in his pitiful thoughts Tersen hadn't even heard the hatch open. Last the technician had seen of the archaeologist she'd still been in the med-bay...with Gare...

"No," he said hastily composing himself. "I was just trying to finish this droid while waiting." He gestured down at his pet-project adding in a quiet tone, "Sometimes I just think better when my hands are busy." Or rather not at all as the case may be.

Era smiled in understanding before moving to stand next to the stool. "Working helps clear your head. I do it too." Though her type of work was different than his Tersen knew she spoke the truth. It was no use hiding anything from the Mirialin. She was too observant. Besides, judging by the redness of her eyes she'd been doing almost as much grieving as Tersen. His throat still ached at the memory.

"It's not working this time," he replied unable to keep the self-loathing out if his voice. "I can't fix it. I don't know why." He could build a swoop bike from scrap and keep the _Outcast_ running at peak performance, but for some reason, he couldn't get a damn droid to activate properly. Some part of him had hoped that by fixing the droid he could regain some level of control over the insanity of recent times. Tersen wanted to blame the faulty salvaged parts, or second-hand tools. In truth, the issues had less to do with the individual components or tools and more to do with the hands that wielded them.

Era placed a consoling hand upon his shoulder. "Perhaps you're trying too hard," she suggested in the soft smooth voice. It reminded Tersen so much of Honwoo and the infinite patience he'd had for the Lannik.

"Maybe," he sighed swallowing the lump in his throat again so his voice wouldn't crack. "I don't know. Things just get so complicated." He fingered a few spare parts as he spoke. "Technology isn't. When I work...everything seems so clear. I see a problem. I fix it. Simple." But Tersen couldn't fix the problem because he didn't know what the problem was.

"Things aren't always that simple." Era spoke in even measured tones, choosing each word carefully. Was she worried about something?

"They ought to be," Tersen replied a little more sharply than intended, but his failed project had scrapped along some already raw nerves.

The mirialin started to reach for the droid, but then quickly recoiled her had before looking questionably at the technician. "May I try something?" Terson released a heavy breath before waving a hand at the probe droid. The robot was small enough that she could cradle it in a single hand. The other adjusted each optic and twisted the head back and forth before giving the power cell a sharp rap with a knuckle.

Suddenly the miniature probe droid leaped out of the archaeologist grasp. For a split second Tersen thought it would plummet to the deck again, but then its anti-gravs kicked on. It began hovering of its own accord. He stared in amazement as the little droid shook its head as if clearing its vision. Next, it tested each of its manipulators before focusing on each of the sentients in turn.

Era giggled as the probe droid chirped and began flying in circles around them. "Well aren't you the cutest thing," she said with a smile. It beeped and warbled merrily as it zoomed about the engine room taking in it new surroundings.

Tersen wanted to share in Era's mirth. He wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment in its completion. Some joy that his project was finally a success. But instead, all he felt was bitterness and frustration. "What did you do?" he demanded curtly. He couldn't understand how a woman with barely any technological acumen had figured out what he couldn't.

If Era was offended by the condescending tone of voice she didn't show it. She seemed taken in by the probe droid as it playfully twirled about the engine compartment. She didn't even look at him when she responded. "An old trick a mechanic friend once taught me," she offered by way of explanation. "He said 'the secret is to know when something is fixed and just give it a good kick."

As far as an explanation went that made about as much sense as an unshielded viewport on a deep-space vessel. Tersen was about to say as much when he realized that _he_ had been the one to tell her that. Back when the crew still owned the _Krayt Fang_ he'd done more jury-rigged repairs to keep the craft flying then he cared to admit. He'd also delivered more than a few kicks to the engine systems to get them to work at full optimization.

Sighing in frustration and annoyance at himself, Tersen sat on his stool. Era took her seat on the workbench. For a moment they sat in silence watching the droid flitter about the room, occasionally coming down to inspect either of them and chirping happily. Everything was new to the little 'bot and it was thrilled just to discover it all.

Its designation was P3D0, or Peedo as Era had decided to christen it. Peedo seemed to like the moniker almost as much as it adored the mirialin. It made sense. Droids were a lot like baby animals, imprinting upon the first thing they saw.

Tersen wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment at seeing his creation flying about their heads but for some reason his victory felt...hollow. He didn't have to think hard on why that was.

"Life was always simpler when I was fixing things," he mumbled, his eyes beginning to burn again. As Peedo settled on her shoulder Era looked down at her companion, waiting patiently for him to continue. "I am good at fixing things," he continued not caring that his throat was tightening and making his voice break. "Always have been...but I couldn't..." The tears welled up but he ignored them.

"...You couldn't fix Gare," she finished placing a hand upon his back. Peedo hummed sadly as if sensing its creator's distress.

Tersen didn't look at her, rather he stared down at the floor. Without his work to distract him the angst had begun to creep back into his mind. "Why'd he have to die?" he demanded hands curling into fists. Tears rolled down Tersen's face as looked up at his crewmate. She looked back at him with sympathy. "Why couldn't we save him?" he asked feeling the early weight of his sadness press down upon his heart. His mind grappled for some explanation or some other course of action that might've affected the series of horrible events that lead them to that moment. "If we had just gotten to him sooner," he sobbed, "I know we could have."

Era's mouth opened and then closed. "Tersen..." she said her tone soft and words measured carefully. "Gare's injuries were too extensive. Even if we had...I'm sorry but nothing short of a full Trauma Center could've saved him." The Mirialin's explanation might as well have been a slap across Tersen's face. "There are just some things we can't fix." The reluctance in the acceptance that Gare's life was out of their control only served to twist the cold knife despair in his gut even more.

Tersen couldn't-wouldn't accept that!

"I could have!" he snapped. Era jerked her hand back as if she'd received an electric jolt. Even Peedo shrank back in alarm. Tersen didn't care. His brain was already going at lightspeed as it went back over all the details of his time with Gare. Over all the lost moments and missed opportunities. "If I hadn't procrastinated on his upgrades!" he seethed berating himself for not keeping his promise to the Gank when he was supposed too. But no…he just _had_ to work on the swoop bike. He just _had_ to focus on his droid project. He just _had_ to upgrade Jarek's _kriffing_ armor systems!

The very thought of their captain caused the rage to boil up within the technician. It reached a fever pitch when his mind made the connection between Jarek and the Mandalorians that attacked the ship, that ambushed the crew on Pybus...that killed Gare...

"Tersen..." Era said trying to find some way to soothe him, but he wasn't having any of it. Tersen knew exactly who was to blame for his friend's death. It wasn't Era's lack of medical facilities and it wasn't his procrastination.

"No! It's all Jarek's fault!" he shouted fists clenched so hard he felt the nails dig into his palms. "Those Mandalorians were after him! Gare is dead because of him!" Era stared down at him but did not attempt to correct or stop him. She knew he was right. How could she not? She spoke his language and shared his bed. She knew more about the Mandalorian then anyone else on board. How could he not be guilty? It all made sense. Jarek had fled his homeworld, he'd confessed as much. He'd even warned them that he was a hunted man, but had they listened? No! Now a member of their crew was dead because they made the mistake of trusting Jarek Orion!

As Tersen seethed with frustration and anguish Era continued to look at him with that soft gaze. The lannik tried to cling to his rage, but something about her purple irises had a maternal quality to them. Honwoo had look at him in a similar way, whenever he'd struggled on a particular project. Tersen couldn't help but feel calm.

"Your right," her response was so quiet and sincere he barely heard it beneath the rumble of the hyperdrive. "Those warriors were after Jarek...and we got caught in the crossfire." Era's words took him by surprise. So much so he almost forgot to be angry. Then he saw the moisture on her cheeks and felt ashamed. He'd been so wrapped up in his anger he hadn't considered Era's feelings. He'd just accused the man she cared for of being responsible for the death of their crewmate and friend, possibly reopening fresh wounds they were all feeling. Tersen wanted to apologize but guilt and depression clung so heavy to him he could only manage to hang his head.

Era knelt and lifted the lannik's head until their eyes met. "But Gare didn't die _because_ of Jarek. He died because he tried to _protect_ Jarek. To protect _us_." In her eyes, he saw the same grief that wracked him. "To protect _you_." Tears streamed down their cheeks as she hugged him. "That was his choice, whether we like it or not." Her tone was so earnest that it broke Tersen's heart all over again.

"I don't like it." He declared feeling both guilty and relieved at knowing his pain was shared by the others. "I miss him Era. I miss him so much."


	5. Chapter 4 Guilt and Anger

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 4: Guilt and Anger**

**Onboard the **_**Outcast**_**:**

Jarek jabbed left and right and followed the combo up with a kick. The room was filled by the rhythmic 'thump' of every impact. The heavy wheezing of his breath barely veiled each blow or drowned out the pounding in his chest. Shifting his stance, he executed another series of attacks.

Aching joints and sore muscles begged for him to stop. He was pushing his body far passed the limit. The painkillers coupled with the adrenaline only masked the pain from his earlier injuries. Jarek was fighting on borrowed time and knew it.

The bag was encased in a combination of nylon and Kevlar weave that made it more durable, but even it was having a hard time beneath the Mandalorian's grief fueled onslaught. He'd seen Gare vent on the very same bag. He'd thought by training a bit it might clear his tormented mind and help him rest. Instead each strike only served to aggravate him more. The bag bounced back every time absorbing the punches and kicks. Never going down.

A warrior's life is spent preparing; honing his skills and perfecting his craft. You prepare so when the important moments arrive you're ready. But there are certain moments…human moments that no amount of training can prepare you for.

Jarek saw Gare. The gladiator threw punch after punch, raining blows down upon his opponent. Gaegan staggered under each impact, backpedaling to put distance between him and the gank. Gare pursued. Jarek began hitting the bag almost in time with the memory.

Gare delivered a powerful kick that sent Gaegan crashing into a wall. Gare closed the distance to grapple with the Death Watchman. Hands found their way around his throat. Jarek snarled just as the gank had and doubled his assault lashing out savagely with knees and elbows. The bag continued to sway and rebound.

Gaegan broke Gare's hold and delivered the headbutt that sent him careening back. Cracked, his faceplate fell to the ground. Jarek's punches started to waver but he quickly adjusted and poured on the strikes.

Gare attempted to fight back but was easily countered. His defenses were swept aside and Gaegan moved in for the kill. Jarek saw the end coming and was powerless to stop it. He heard the sharp snap of broken cybernetics and the spine-chilling scream as if he were back on Pybus. The _kal_ left his hand with the inevitability of a dream turned to a nightmare. He saw the bloody rictus that was his friends face. As he watched the _beskad_ descend. Geagan's final words taunted him…

"_Now you know pain_."

"NO!" Jarek yelled. The bag swayed off-kilter just so that the haymaker he'd swung only grazed the surface. He'd placed so much anger into the attack that he was off balance. Jarek stumbled crashing to his hands and knees. The Mandalorian growled in frustration; annoyed at the bag, angry at his imbalance, and disappointed in himself for getting so distracted.

"Damn it!" he swore. "Damn it all!" he shouted slamming his clenched fists into the mat spraying it with sweat intermingled with tears. Amidst the watery damp stains, he spotted the flecks of crimson. He quickly became aware of the stinging in his knuckles and elbows. So intent was upon his grief Jarek hadn't noticed the split skin on his arms and hands.

"Damn it," Jarek sighed lowering his head in disgrace. Arms quivered as his breath came in great heaving gasps. His throat clenched with suppressed emotion Jarek was too fatigued to keep at bay. Soon his whole body was wracked by sobs.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a hatch open and footfalls approaching him. He no longer cared. Jarek was too tired, to sore, and too angry to worry about the unflattering state he was found in. It would serve him right. Public shame was the least he was due after placing his crew in such peril. For losing one of their own Jarek deserved much worse.

"It's …all…my…fault," he said, each word measured with a heaving gasp. Whoever had come in, knelt next to him. An arm draped across his back while another gripped his shoulder. The grip was feather-light but firm as they urged him upwards. Jarek rose and allowed himself to be led from the rec-room. He was only vaguely aware of being escorted up to the captain's cabin and then made to lay on the bed.

A blur of green skin and black hair was all the clue he needed to know who was with him. "Era," he breathed only to be hushed. He felt more than saw the mirialin remove his clothing before administering medical treatment. Jarek wondered why she would bother tending to him. She must've been exhausted from taking care of Jacek, and then afterward seeing to Gare's body. There was no reason she should waste her time with the likes of him.

"_She had promised she would_," he reminded himself and then thought absently, "_She's also a much better person than you. Thinking of others._" The idea of her altruism only served to deepen his elf-loathing. So much so he tried pulling his hands away as Era tried wrapping them in bacta infused bandages.

"Don't be stubborn," she snapped in Mando'a. The sound of his native tongue surprised Jarek to the point he stopped resisting. Without further protests, she finished bandaging his hands before moving to his forearms. Next, she pulled out her scanner and examined the rest of his body. Discovering no immediate health risks, she set about applying a topical ointment to the bruises. It stung his eyes with the scent of peppermint yet burned with a cold intensity. Other than her earlier admonishment she worked in silence never once looking him in the eye.

Could he blame her? He could barely stand the sight of himself. The Mandalorian wouldn't be surprised if Era got up, walked out, and never came back. Her crewmate, the same one that had saved both their lives on Tatooine and Ryloth was dead because of him. The thought of her absence made Jarek's heartache and eyes water, but he wouldn't blame her. She deserved better than him.

Just as he was preparing to fortify his spirit for the inevitable, Era surprised him. After her ministrations were complete, and she'd put the medical supplies away the Mirialin stood and began undressing. Perplexed Jarek could only watch as Era stripped down to her underwear before climbing in next to him. While draping a thigh and arm across his body Era rested her head on Jarek's chest. She didn't seem to care he was still unwashed from the day's events. Neither was she for that matter.

Other than curling up as close to him as possible she made no other move. There was nothing sexual in her actions. Era just wanted to be as close to him as she could. As flesh pressed against flesh, he could feel the steady pulse beneath her breast. More than that he could hear her breathe. Each breath shuddered beneath a veil of heavy emotion. She was tired and still reeling from the loss, but beneath all that Jarek sensed an air of contentment. Era was happy to be there…with him.

Jarek's heart ached to realize just how much he didn't deserve a woman like her in his life, and grateful she was. Era, the heart of the crew, always looking after everyone else was content just to be with him.

Shifting Jarek wrapped an arm around her shoulders while clutching the hand draped across his torso. Though tentative at first their fingers soon intertwined. They sighed and clung all the tighter, both grateful for the other's presence.

As much as he long to remain in the moment and forget about the rest of the galaxy, his brain wouldn't allow it. Not wanting to go into another depressed spiral like the one that had scarred his knuckles, Jarek focused on other matters. Matters that he should've been considering all along. "The others?" he asked finally.

"Are coping," she responded quickly but softy. Before he could inquire after the details she continued to explain. "Tersen is tinkering. Jacek is with him. Maddy and Slick were in the galley."

Jarek assumed Madlyn was drinking to Gare's memory, while Slick offered comfort. Tersen would be working on something trying to keep his mind busy. Era hadn't just been working in the med-bay the whole time. She'd also checked on the rest of the crew. A responsibility that should've fallen to him as the Captain. He had been so wrapped up in his own problems he hadn't even spared the others a second thought. Jarek's disgrace knew no bounds.

Before he could comment, either way, the archeologist rubbed a thumb across his knuckles. They stung by Jarek didn't pull away. "We all deal in our own way," she added tenderly but pointedly.

Jarek might've smiled but was too tired. He had tried to cope but had only managed to make himself feel worse. Era's emotional and physical presence was a balm he sorely needed. "What is your way?" he whispered in a flat tone, fatigue overshadowing his genuine interest.

"I analyze and quantify," she replied her breath tickling his chest, "And when that failed, I remembered what my father taught me." She rubbed his knuckles again. They stung but unlike before there was also a pleasant sensation coupled with the pain. "We are each fated and yet our fate is what we make it."

In all their time spent together, Jarek had never once heard Era speak about her father. By the reverence in her tone and the subtle wisdom in the phrase, he was a philosopher of sorts. Although she never spoke of him Era had found comfort in her father's teachings, Jarek was curious what he had to say. Maybe his words might comfort them both. "Would your father say Gare was fated to die?"

Era silently contemplated the question idly stoking Jarek's bandaged hand. The flesh beneath tingled. Whether from her touch or the bacta he wasn't sure.

"Who's to say what is fated? A life or death could have a purpose we haven't seen yet. What might happen or could happen has no bearing on what will happen. A man can avoid fate only to see his actions bare it to fruition." It was a philosophical answer to be sure; both answering and not answering at the same time. Her words were smooth and, poetic, hinting that greater wisdom lay in her father's lessons but they didn't answer his question.

"So, am I to blame for my friend's death?" he asked still not sure, "Or does the blame lay at fate's feet?" He may have been speaking out of pettiness, but exhaustion wasn't lending itself well to his tactfulness.

If she was offended by his lack of faith Era gave no indication. "Who's to blame?" She went on, her words still silky smooth and gentle. "You for your past coming back to haunt you? Gare for fighting injured. Me for pushing us to take the job. Jacek for even offering it to us?" Each question was rhetorical. She had to know Jarek wasn't the type to blame any of them, not when the guilt rested solely on his shoulders. "No one person is to blame. Events happen beyond our control. We had no way of knowing would happen on Pybus, no more than you'd know that Death Watch would set a trap for us there."

Her last words churned in his gut and he felt the ice-cold stab of dread. "But I knew they were hunting me," he stated, feeling her stiffen slightly. "Ota had told me some Mandos had been seen in Nabat." He paused but when Era didn't say anything he continued, "I'd assumed we'd shaken them in Hutt Space." An assumption based on nothing but hope and it had cost them dearly.

"Now Gare is dead," Era stated making Jarek flinch, "Murdered by the _Kyr'tsad_." Her words held neither venom nor anger. He sensed she was merely stating a fact. Jarek didn't have to ask how she knew about Death Watch. Era Oldassi was exceptionally brilliant. It stood to reason she'd come across the illustrious group in her research of Jarek Orion.

As she spoke Era turned until purple irises met green. "Gare's death is not your fault," she said with the utmost surety, "Gaegan killed him-"

"-To get to me," he cut it unable to hold her gaze. "Gaegan killed Gare to hurt me."

"Why?" she demanded. She spoke softly but there was steel in her words. Jarek didn't want to answer but he could feel her gaze drilling into him. Without an explanation, he knew that she would never let the subject go. Subsiding on tidbits and morsels of information Era had been more than patient. She'd earned - no - deserved answers.

And so, he gave them. He told her of how he was raised a _Dar'Manda_ – an outcast. Of how Gaegan resented him for presuming to become a member of the _Mando'ade_. He told her about the _verd'gotan_ and how he and Gaegan had competed so fiercely. When it came time to tell her about his last moments with Jilo, he faltered. Era gave him an encouraging squeeze of the hand.

"Jilo wanted nothing more to do with the Death Watch," he relented, "So one night she fled…"

**Kalevala: 4 Cycle Ago:**

Screams split the early morning. Frantic defiant screams that reverberated through the compound and into the sleeping quarters. Jarek shot from his pallet sprinting to the hatchway dreading on what he would witness. The other youths crowded around to bear witness as well.

Outside a group of fully armored warriors were marching into the wet courtyard littered with debris from the storm. They were all soaked from the rain and several were coated in bits of nature as if they'd been flying through dense forest. A pair of warriors hauled an unarmored figure bound hand and foot. She was the source of the screaming.

"Jilo," he gasped. The young woman was giving a good account of herself, kicking out at her captures and doing her best to wrench herself free. Many warriors on the periphery were chuckling and jeering but those that had captured the wily young woman were not laughing. The capture of the traitor had been more challenging than expected.

Orders were issued and the youths were herded out into the courtyard. Jilo was dragged to a pole set into the stone. She only stopped struggling when her arms and legs were secured to the post. Expressions in the group ranged from shock to anger. Only defiant desperation coated Jilo's face.

Any idle chatter faded when Ja'halir stepped forward. He was also in full kit but was to clean to have participated in the hunt. His grave expression was more than enough to set everyone on edge. When he finally spoke, his voice was filled with a combination of disappointment and barely leashed rage. "Strength is Life."

"For only the strong have the right to rule," The warriors finished as a single voice.

"Honor is life," the senior warrior intoned looking expectantly out at the crowd.

"For without honor, one might as well be dead." The youths all said in a ragged chorus, unsure yet fearful of what was to come.

"Loyalty is life," he said his voice trailing off.

"For without one's clan, one has no purpose," the entire assembly stated, even Jarek though his heart wasn't in it. Cold trepidation was tempering his enthusiasm.

"We have been betrayed," he rasped looking out at the youths, "Our sister has betrayed us. Choosing to flee in the night rather than face her obligations." A cold pit opened in the bottom of Jarek stomach. "It is a dishonor that can only be cleansed by blood." Jilo caught his eye. He could see the desperation but no regret, and total resolution. Some part of him wanted to help her, but his father's desire stayed his feet. He suddenly felt unclean and his eyes stung but he never looked away from the young woman.

Ja'Halir approached the line of warriors. At a gesture one of the Mandalorians stepped forward and removed his _buy'ce_. It was Gaegan. "Loyalty is life," Ja'halir stated, "For, without one's clan, one has no purpose."

Alarm rippled through Jarek when he realized that the young man must've overheard them in the garden and reported Jilo to the cadre. Which meant he had heard him as well. But then why was he standing in the crowd and not trussed up next to Jilo?

Rather than look proud or excited at proving himself worthy, Gaegan looked slightly ill. It was as if his duty was at war with his emotions. Yet he took the offered _beskad_ and stepped up to the pole. The young woman didn't even look at him, even as he placed the point of the blade to her heart. She began to quake but didn't allow her focus to waver in the face of fear. Jilo only had eyes for Jarek.

"Death is life," Ja'halir declared.

"One should die as they have lived." This time the reply was less unified. Sensing what was to come the youth's voices stumbled while the warrior's remained strong. Jarek was silent. Anxiety coursed through him as he so desperately wanted to look away yet unable to do so. The softest and saddest of smiles dawned on Jilo's face. Tears streaked down her cheeks.

There was no scream when Gaegan rammed the blade home. Jilo's body jerked once as it clung desperately to life. Even as she struggled to breathe her eyes never left his. It was as if they pleaded with him to take the pain away while also begging for forgiveness. Jarek could do neither.

As her chin sank to her chest Gaegan looked from Jilo directly at Jarek. The young man stared with cold hatred at Jarek, and the young man returned it in kind.

**Onboard the **_**Outcast**_**:**

"He blames me for her betrayal," he finished feeling that same twisting pain in his gut as then. "And for taking his eye when I escaped," he added looking at her with despondent conviction, "Gare died because of me."

Era propped herself up to look down at him. The judgment and disappointment he had expected to see weren't there. Instead, he saw a familiar sense of resolution. "Gare died protecting you." Placing a hand upon his cheek she added with determined fortitude, "He made that choice because it's what any one of us would do. Don't take that away from him." Her last sentence was almost pleading as if for the sake of Gare's memory let his death mean something. Jarek couldn't tell whether that calm desperation was for his own sake or hers.

Jarek's eyes burned as he placed his hand on Era's cheek. A thumb stroked her cheek as tenderly as the bandages would allow. "For family," he mumbled feeling the lump rise in his throat, "Those were Gare's last words. For family." For his heart's sake and Era's Jarek would try accepting Gare's death for what it was; a sacrifice for his life. He owed it to the former gladiator to be worthy of it.

Jarek had never known true grief. He'd lost his parents, but could one grieve for those he'd never known? Jilo had been taken from him and…he'd never really processed the loss. The Death Watch hadn't allowed him to do so. In his mind, the blade that had taken Gare's life was no different than the one that had taken Jilo's. The hand that wielded both had certainly not changed. Then again Jarek had believed he'd avenged Jilo long ago. He wanted to believe that by burying Gaegan beneath a pile of rubble he'd avenged her and Gare, but something in the back of his mind told him he hadn't seen the last of Gaegan or Death Watch.

That was for later. Next, they would arrive at New Meen and lay Gare to rest. Tonight, he would rest with the woman he cared for allowing his heart and body to mend by some measure of.


	6. Chapter 5 Bargaining

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 5: Bargaining**

**Ryloth: Outskirts of New Meen:**

"_How do we remember someone…we've only known for a short time_?"

The torch lowered to the base of the pyre. Flames leapt from the end to catch the chemical infused kindling. Jarek dropped the torch and stepped back to join the rest of the congregation. Era's hand took his as they all kept their quiet vigil. Slick and Madlyn held one another while Tersen stood cradling Peedo.

"_How do we cherish their memory when there are so few to recall_?"

A ring of fire encircled the base of the platform where Gare lay in repose. Steadily the tendrils burned their way up the steepled logs until finally, they curled around to grasp their crewmates body. The softer materials were the first to catch filling the air with an almost acrid scent. His battle-scarred armor seemed to glow as it absorbed the building heat.

"_How do we speak of them? Celebrate them? …Mourn them_?"

Jarek wasn't sure of Gare's beliefs or even how he wanted his body tended after death. Mandalorian's believed a body resided where it fell in battle. Funerals were often done over their armor as it was presented towards his kin and clan. Twi'lek's didn't believe in burial. On a world were monstrous predators lurked beneath the surface the idea of burial was almost a dishonor. In the end, a pyre was the best send-off for their friend and as the warrior's body was enveloped by the flames Jarek realized how appropriate it was. Gare's body lay in quiet defiance of the heat and fire just as he stood in the face of the worst the Galaxy had thrown at him.

"_The answer is 'We don't'_…"

The area around the mine was desolate and yet somehow B'ura's people had managed to locate enough wood to prepare a proper funeral pyre. Light from the fire reflected in the eyes of dozens of onlookers. Tears shed and unshed sparkled like starlight. Some faces he recognized; B'ura B'on and Dah'Ra amongst them.

"_For when he is gone, a hero's actions shall speak for him_."

Jacek was there with the crew holding the Siren's Song in uncertain hands. Nyn was present as well. Next to her stood Corte and Ota along with the residents of New Meen. Eyes cast downward in sorrow. Since their initial contact with the settlement the crew's reputation, namely Gare's had taken on near-mythic proportions. In the eyes of the settlers, Gare was a folk hero. And now that legend was gone.

Then there were others he recognized but couldn't quite believe he was seeing.

"_What makes a being worth remembering…is not his origins_."

Amidst the crowd of twi'leks, he saw a humanoid towering over them. Though he wore a simple cloak and tunic there was no concealing his muscular frame, nor those of the besalisk, and the twin aqualish accompanying him. There was also no mistaking the sadness in the morgukai's eyes. Surrounding Gurhikan and his fellow gladiators were a crowd comprising many of Teemo's former slaves and servants.

"_But rather the choices they make…and how they face the consequences_."

Jarek had finished the eulogy, through a tight throat and somber tones, before lowering the torch to the pyre. The Rylothian night was soon awash in the orange glow illuminating the small army of mourners.

In the short time Jarek had known him, Gare had managed to touch the lives of so many. Crewmates stood alongside miners and freed slaves, all linked by a common desire. To remember and to honor.

The flames billowed all the higher. Eventually, Gare's armor succumbed to the great heat and soon his body was little more than a dark silhouette against the orange backdrop. The pall of smoke arched up into the darkness briefly obscuring the light of the moon and stars.

"You once asked me what it meant to be Mandalorian." Era looked up at him hands still intertwined. "This is the sad reality. If you pursue this life than this is your ultimate destination." He turned to stare down at her with an intensity that made her shiver. "But before then you must do everything you can…for as long as you can to serve and protect your clan." He had forgone his _buyce_ to better observe the ritual. She could see the tears streaming down his face. "Gare understood this, and he wasn't even _Mando'ade_."

Era was silent for a moment. Absorbing his words and allowing them time to fully manifest in her heart. Then she offered him the softest of smiles. "But he was a part of a clan." She placed a hand on his cheek. He closed his eye leaning into her touch. "Your clan, Jarek." Green eye linked with purple. "Our clan."

As the fires reached their apex, a clear musical note arose out of the night. Gazes shifted to the source, landing on Jacek. The elderly smuggler was holding the artifact and was gently stroking the crystal shards. The Siren's Song came to life producing a melody that sent shivers through the crowd. A harmonious series of musical notes emanated from it, filling the area with an ethereal melody. Just as it had done in the temple each shard gave off its one unique tone that intermixed with the others in a beautifully harmonious rhythm. The dulcet tones echoed throughout the night. The song carried such a presence that the crowd looked about expecting to see rays of light cascading across the rocky edifices around them.

Something shifted in Jarek's soul at the sound. The song flowed through his mind as he picked up the rhythm. Something about it felt…appropriate. Eyes turned away from the smuggler and fell on the captain…as he began to sing…just as his father had taught him.

"Glory!

One indomitable heart, Brothers all.

We, the wrath of Coruscant, Brothers all.

And glory, eternal glory,

We shall bear its weight together.

Forged like the saber in the fires of death, Brothers all.

One indomitable heart, Brothers all.

We, the wrath of Coruscant, Brothers all."

A second voice joined his matching his words in _Mando'a_. The soft feminine alto, mingled with his deep tenor, combining to sing the familiar Mandalorian chant. Era and Jarek's voices gathered in strength to match pitch and tone with the Siren's Song.

"And...

Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.

Our vengeance burns brighter still.

Every last traitorous soul shall kneel.

Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.

Our vengeance burns brighter still.

Every last traitorous soul shall fall.

Forged like the saber in the fires of death, Brothers all!"

The original song was meant as a pre-battle chant, designed to hype up warriors. As it adjusted to the Siren's tones it spread a new mixture of feelings. Emotionally, the gentle poignancy brought tears to the eyes of some while rousing the hearts and spirits of others.

The song finally faded with the withering of the flames. Their soft glow barely illuminating the front ranks of the assembly. There was little left of Gare's body. At its zenith, the fire had consumed it. All that was left were the remains of the pyre and scraps of armor that clung stubbornly to existence.

This was how Jarek wanted to honor his friend, by letting him know that his sacrifice nor the acts of heroism throughout his life would ever be forgotten and that Jarek would do whatever it took to bring those who wronged them to justice.

This was his promise.


	7. Chapter 6 Upward Turn and Reconstruction

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 6: Upward Turn and Reconstruction**

**New Meen: Community Center:**

The funeral had been a somber and yet strangely beautiful service. Tersen couldn't think of a better send-off for his friend. Grief still sat heavy in his chest and every so often his throat clenched at the emotions he had yet to process.

The lannik knew it would be some time before the memory of his friend wouldn't fill him with sorrow. It would be an equal measure before he could completely forgive Jarek's complicity. In his head, he recognized the captain was not to blame but he couldn't ignore that it was because of Jarek's past actions the Death Watch had been present on Pybus. Gare had been caught in the crossfire. In his heart of hearts, he knew he must forgive Jarek, but not tonight. Not while Gare's ashes still wafted on the breeze and his blood still stained the ship medbay.

The mini-probe droid flittered about taking in every detail of his new environment. Its personality was on par with that of an overly curious child…if that child had the processing power of a small supercomputer that is. The droid was learning fast and though it had imprinted on Era, it often stayed close to Tersen. The technician was glad for the companionship.

Having Peedo around certainly helped to cheer him up.

Madlyn and Slick were nearby embracing the revelry around them. Jarek and Era were mingling with the settlement leadership, no doubt thanking them for all they'd done to help lay Gare to rest. The couples had one another to rely on. Tersen had had Gare, but now the Gank was gone…it was hard not to feel alone. Peedo helped with that.

"But how did you end up all the way here?" he asked the morgukai. In the midst, the wake Tersen had found himself sitting with Teemo's former Gladiators. They reminded him in so many ways of Gare and it had been a comfort to be around the familiar.

Despite his size, Gurhikan was very cordial, recognizing Tersen as Gare's crewmate and friend. Likewise, the besalisk and twin aqualish were equally accommodating if a little annoyed at Peedo's constant buzzing about their heads.

"It is a tale to tell," Stinti the besalisk stated hefting a mug of the local brew. The twins Nhiax and Nhurehr nodded in agreement yet deferred to Gurhikan who took a deep breath before downing the last of his drink and refilling it.

The last Tersen seen of the Nikto and other remaining servants of Teemo the Hutt they were being led off to become slaves of Jabba. Though valiant in their defense of Tersen and the others, the gladiators had merely traded one master for another. The crew of the _Outcast_ had been powerless to help them. A fact that hadn't sat well with any of them.

"As you know we were set to be delivered to Jabba as his…property." Gurhikan nearly spat the last word. His companions also grumbled in disgust. Tersen empathized and nodded in acknowledgment. "Well the transport we were on experienced some…" he glanced at the other gladiators who smiled conspiratorially. "Technical issues and crashed in the Dune Sea. Most of us survived and the sands claimed the wreckage and any evidence to the contrary."

Tersen had never been a fan of Teemo's gladiatorial bouts, preferring to seclude himself away in his workshop. The only time he'd seen them in action was during their escape from the Palace. From the various sentients who visited the shop for one reason or another, he'd often hear about each of the fighter's prowess. Their skill was certainly well earned and left little doubt to their tenacity.

"The desert…was not kind to the injured," Nhurehr said somberly, his brother placing a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Even when we found shelter in the southern canyons we were not out of danger."

"What little food or water that was scavenged from the wreckage was nearly spent," Nhiax added with an equally dark tone, "And we had few weapons to defend ourselves. It wasn't looking good."

Tersen could only imagine the hardships they must've endured; starvation and dehydration beneath the withering rays of twin suns. The constant dread of running afoul a Sarlacc pit or a Tuskin Raider camp. It was a miracle they'd even survived as longs as they had.

Stinti lowered his mug and looked critically at his companions. "But we had our freedom. That alone helped sustain us even as supplies dwindled."

"Freedom doesn't fill your belly or keep you warm at night," Nhurehr growled. It was obvious the pair had butted heads on the subject before. Desperate times often brought out the worst in beings. It seemed that was even true of gladiators.

"Things looked bleak," Gurhikan stated silencing his companions, ending the argument before it even started. "We sufficed on whomp rats and what water we could collect in the night." Just then his expression lightened, and a wistful smile crossed his face. "Then we found the oasis."

Stinti chortled before saying, "Well actually Momaw found us."

"Who?" Tersen asked not recognizing the name.

"Momaw Nadon," Nhiax explained shrugging dismissively, "Some old Ithorian who hoped to do the impossible."

Before Tersen could inquire further Gurhikan cut in continuing the story. "Regardless of his motivations, Momaw had supplies we needed. In exchange, we helped in his garden while also proving security against some bothersome Tuskins."

Tersen was still curious about who this Momaw character was but decided it was a question for another time. The morgukai had revealed how he and 'his people' had escaped and survived yet the question remained-

"How did you end up here?" the technician asked.

"Gare," Gurhikan stated, "during our brief time together before Jabba's people took us, he mentioned a settlement called New Meen on Ryloth." He sighed as he recalled the experience. "It took some doing; hitching a ride on a Sandcrawler to Mos Eisley and then finding a large enough transport willing to smuggle everyone off-planet."

"We couldn't risk word getting back to Jabba that we'd survived," Stinti remarked after finishing another mug, "so secrecy was as paramount as speed."

Tersen didn't have the heart to inform them that Jabba cared more about punishing Teemo then adopting a small army of slaves. A slave's life was inconsequential compared to a Hutt's reputation. So long as Teemo was destitute, Tersen doubted Jabba cared what happened to his servants.

Gurhikan started speaking again regaining the lannik's attention. "I'd hoped to run into Gare again, or at least send him a message," the Nikto explained sadly, "We arrived just in time to learn of his funeral arrangements."

The table was quiet for a moment as hands clenched on mugs and eyes were wiped. Nhurehr sniffled once before raising his drink. "A death befitting a warrior such as he," the others mirrored his action. Tersen followed suite. "To Gare," he toasted.

"To Gare!" they all declared before drinking.

After a moment Tersen managed to compose himself enough to ask the question that was still distracting him. Looking at Gurhikan he asked, "What did Gare…" he paused to clear his throat before continuing, "I mean…how exactly did Gare help you?"

Reaching into his tunic Gurhikan pulled out a small metal cylinder attached to a makeshift lanyard. The morgukai handled it with something approaching reverence and even hesitated before removing it from around his neck. Taking it, Tersen brought it closer for inspection. It was skeleton key of sorts. It was roughly carved from what had once been a caliper bolt, a process the must've taken weeks, possibly even months.

Tersen quickly recognized it as the analog equivalent of a magni-cuff key. It would've also worked on most hatch locks.

"When Jabba's men were leading us away Gare passed that to me." The Lannik did recall Gare and the Nikto have a brief dialogue before Jabba's guards had driven him off. Tersen had assumed the gank had attempted to appeal for the gladiator's forgiveness for his treatment. It seemed words hadn't been the only thing exchanged.

It dawned on Tersen that Gare must've been devising his very own escape when he'd stumbled upon Slick and Era's plans. The Gank had never mentioned anything of the sort but here was the evidence in his hand and Gare had just gifted it to his fellow gladiator.

"When he gave it to me," Gurhikan continued his gaze distant as the memory played out before his eyes, "he told me 'do what we do best.'"

Tersen gripped the key, eyes closing tightly against the tears that threatened to flow anew. "And what is that?"

Gurhikan scoffed and smiled almost a bit lamentably. "Kill them all." Around the table, the gladiators nodded with mirrored expressions. Each one of them skilled in the theatrical art of combat, but not defined by it. Tersen realized that Gare's advice hadn't just included those that had enslaved the Gladiators, it extended to all those who would do them or their people harm. Just like Gare, these were sentients who were willing to do great violence to protect those they adored.

Tersen's anguish abated slightly to hear and see the results of Gare's selflessness. Gurhikan went on to explain he and 'his people' would officially be joining B'ura B'on's settlement. They would begin building whole new lives for them and their children and it was all thanks to one Gank.

"_Gare…even after your death…your actions are still affecting lives_," Madlyn thought even as she toasted to her crewmate's memory for the fifth-or was it the sixth time? The Alderanni had lost count. Slick had told her back on the ship the answer to her woes wouldn't be found at the bottom of a bottle. How could she be sure if she didn't check a few first? It was a rotten excuse and she knew it but at that moment she'd rather not feel anything. The Pantoran in question was right next to her and while he didn't stop her, he made sure she was drinking in moderation.

"You're too good for me, love," she'd told him more than once. Slick would just smile and squeeze her hand. It was his way of assuring her he'd always be there to pick up the pieces. Maybe that was a part of why they worked so well together. They always saw the best facets of each other and not the cruddy road-worn aspects they showed the galaxy. "And I'm too good for you," she said drunkenly downing the last of her drink.

Madlyn didn't know what to think of this event the Twi'lek's referred to as a 'Remembrance.' Mostly everyone stood around and talked about whoever had died while downing copious amounts of booze. Maddy wasn't sure about telling tales of Gare's prowess in battle, but if the drinks were free, she'd spin a yarn or two. She'd already told one group about how Gare had tricked a whole ship of pirates to save the crew. Next, she'd described in graphic detail how the gank had ridden a grabworm on Toydaria. The locals ate up every detail. She may have exaggerated certain aspect but that was nothing compared to how the residence described Gare's actions at the lylek den and his later conflict with Drombb's goons. Absolutely nothing had been lost in the retelling.

"If Gare isn't careful there will be a temple in his name in very short order," Slick had commented as the crowds moved on. Maddy snorted before diving back into her cups. Despite the bountiful amounts of brain-numbing alcohol flowing through her veins, the Alderanni was still sober enough to feel the grief associated with the gank's name. Jarek-or had it been Era? - had mentioned that the man responsible for her crewmate's death lay broken beneath a collapsed wall of stone. Being buried alive was amongst the worst ways the pilot could imagine dying, right up there with being spaced out an airlocked. In the darker recesses of her mind lying beneath a pile of rubble slowly suffocating was a small mercy compared to what she and the crew would've done in terms of revenge. But that could just be the liquor talking.

It was at that moment she began to overhear Tersen's conversation with the four Gladiator's. Unlike the Lannik she'd watched and even gambled on a number of those fights. After listening to Gurhikan's story she was equal parts astonished and disappointed. Had she been soberer she'd have pressed them for more details. She was astonished to learn that the Gank's simple act of altruism had resulted in the freedom of so many slaves. It disappointed her that her friend couldn't be there to see the fruits of his labor. The thought was a double-edged sword in that regard.

"Whatever celestial plain you moved on to," she intoned raising her glass once more, "I hope you got a good view." She swiped angrily at a stray tear before continuing, "You stubborn, selfless, kriffer."

Slick's reassuring hand squeezed hers once again. "I'm sure he does my dear," he said touching his glass against hers. "I'm sure he does."

The archeologist had lost count of how many settlers and former slaves had greeted them; offering sentiments and condolences. As appreciative as she was it was exhausting. Era would've liked to retire to the ship, but certain rituals had to be performed for decencies sake. It felt like she'd never quite stopped moving since Pybus. Even though fatigued tugged at her mind she refused to disrespect the twi'leks. B'ura's people had been very accommodating and repaying goodwill with bad grace invited misfortune.

The funeral had been beautiful and the 'Remembrance' touching. The outpouring of affection from the residence of New Meen had touched her deeply on more than one occasion. The stories that circulated about Gare, however, were…embellished, to say the least. The adults viewed him as an honorable ronin fighting for their people, while the youngsters described him as a paladin of justice. She couldn't help but wonder how the Gank might've blushed at so much praise.

Once they'd spoken with the Ota and the Twi'lek leaders Era and Jarek managed to find a secluded corner of the community center. Once some drinks were secured, they sank into a booth. The couple shared a laughed when they simultaneously sighed in exasperation. Afterward, they leaned into one another and sat in silence. Nursing their drinks, the couple just sat and observed the crowd.

Madlyn was three bottles deep and showing no signs of slowing. Slick ever the dutiful boyfriend never strayed far from her side. A worry that the Alderanni might drink herself into oblivion was mitigated by the mere presence of the Pantoran.

Somehow Tersen found himself sitting with four of Teemo's gladiators of all beings. Ota had given them a brief rundown of how so many of the slug's former servants had ended up in New Meen. Judging by his expression and the mannerism of the fighters, Tersen was getting a detailed firsthand account of the journey.

Jacek was nowhere to be seen though Da'Rah had assured her he had people keeping an eye on him. The older smuggler's gesture during the funeral had been sweet, to say the least. While they had no further obligation to the man Era still felt responsible for his health, at least for the time being. Soon he would no doubt move on with his life, but since obtaining his greatest desire Jacek had to be unsure what do with himself.

"_He'll figure it out_," she thought confidently, "_We all will_."

Jarek kept rubbing his thumb on her shoulder and occasionally sighed as if comforted by her very presence. She caught the expression on his face and couldn't help but smile. He was looking out at the crowd just as she was but kept focusing on each member of their crew. His gaze was soft and content with lingering hints of sadness around the edges. It was a very paternal expression; caring yet protective. Despite the loss or whatever mental chastisement, he put himself through for Gare's death, this was a man who would do whatever it took to take care of his family.

Closing her eyes, she allowed the voices and music to wash over her, feeling the emotions of the crowd. Yes, there was sadness and grief to be sure, but also happiness and joy. There was life in New Meen and Gare had a hand in preserving it.

"'…_you must do everything you can…for as long as you can to serve and protect your clan.'_" She recalled him saying. "_Our clan_," she mentally amended, "_Our aliit_."

It was then a new feeling entered her mind. Its presence didn't shock her. The feelings had been there for quite some time, developing over the last several weeks. As her grip tightened around her Mandalorian the emotions crystallized into a coherent thought she dared not speak aloud. "_I love this man_." Gare's death helped her recognize that life was to short and to ignore or repress how they felt was a disservice to one's soul.

Era dared not look up at Jarek lest he sensed her thoughts. Nor did she want to pronounce them aloud. In such a public setting she might make him uncomfortable. Maybe he felt the same way, or maybe he didn't. She would never know unless she asked. For the moment they were both content. They could talk later, but for now…

"_Thank you Gare_," she thought wistfully, "_For helping me realize how much Jarek means to me. Fate may have called you home…but we will miss you…always_."


	8. Chapter 7 Reflection

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 7: Reflection**

**New Meen:**

Jacek looked out across the great expanse west of New Meen. Following his gaze, Jarek spotted a storm moving across the horizon. They were a common sight on the planet. They wreaked havoc with sensors and other sensitive equipment. Fortunately, it seemed this storm would miss the settlement. It was clear roads and skies all the way to Nabat and beyond. A speeder idled on the road nearby.

"Your leaving?" Era asked. In the two days since Gare's funeral, the color had returned to Jacek's skin. Coupled with food, rest, and proper grooming the former smuggler looked years younger.

"Yes," Jacek replied with a sad smile. "It's time to go home. I need to try and fix what I can. Maybe find what I'd lost." Jarek heard the resolution in his voice. He figured Jacek was referring to the family his mad quest had cost him. Despite his reluctance, the man desired to move forward. Era's sigh indicated she sensed it as well.

Despite the circumstances of their meeting Jarek was a bit sad to see the man go. Genuinely curious as to what the future held for the wayward treasure hunter, Jarek asked, "And after that?"

Jerking his chin back toward the settlement he said, "B'ura offered me a job moving ryll for the mine." Shouldering his pack, he added, "I'll take him up on the offer, once I've made my peace on the home-front." At a rumble of thunder, his gaze briefly shifted toward the storm before returning to his friends. "Its honest work. More than I deserve." His words were accompanied by a wane smile.

"Well, not too honest," Era teased, "You are still smuggling."

Jacek winked at her and, without missing a beat, stated, "Only if I'm caught." The three of them shared a brief chuckled. As the laughter faded Jacek turned to enter the waiting speeder. With one foot on the runner, he paused. Before mounting Jacek turned, unslung his satchel and handed the contents to the Mirialin.

Era gawked as her fingers curled around the base of the Siren's Song. It took a moment of shocked blubbering before she was finally able to form a coherent sentence. "No…you searched so long for it!" she blurted out trying to hand it back, "This is yours!"

"And I found it," he stated gentling pushing the treasure deeper into her gasp. "Like you said. 'It's real.' That's enough for me." As his hand slipped away the crystals gave off one last harmonic tone. It floated on the wind, unheard by anyone but them, before fading away.

Still, the bewildered Era couldn't help but ask, "You're sure? Sold to the right collector or museum the Song could set you up for years." In all the emotions of the days following Pybus Jarek hadn't considered the monetary value of the artifact. Jacek was knowingly giving up a small fortune.

Jacek smiled down at her and shook his head. "Credits won't get me my life back. Besides," he locked eyes with Jarek, "I still owe your crew payment for the job. I only wish it was more." He clasped hands with the Captain. "Maybe we'll meet again, but for now my path leads elsewhere."

"Ret'urcye mhi," he replied, "Maybe we'll see each other again." When they released hands, Era stepped forward. She wrapped Jacek in a tight embrace, made slightly awkward by the Siren's Song. After issuing him her own best wishes the old man loaded up into the transport. The pair watched as he sped off toward the Nabat spaceport.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jarek noticed Era contemplating the impressive crown of jewels. She was careful not to rub or tap any of the crystals lest she activates the various notes and tones within. "What will you do with it?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure," she answered without looking away from the treasure. "There's so much emotion attached to this thing, I don't know if I want to sell it or keep it." At that moment she squinted at the rapidly fading silhouette of Jacek's speeder. "You think he'll be okay?" She asked as dust that trailed after the vehicle began to obscure it.

"I'm sure he will be," Jarek answered watching as the speeders vanished out of sight. "As he said, we all have our own paths. Maybe ours will cross again." The mirialin nodded and after a moment the two turned to reenter the town. They'd only gone a few steps before the woman looked up at him.

"So where does our path lead?"

At her words, Jarek paused and met her gaze. Those soft purple irises seemed to bore into him. He sensed that there was some unseen part of her that was reaching out to him. The pull was so strong that he couldn't resist and enveloped her in a tight embrace. Their lips pressed together and Jarek felt his own heart grasp for the woman in his arms. There on that street, they were together and despite the grief and pain of the past, it felt right.

Ever so gently they parted. As the focus came back into Era's eyes, she realized Jarek now held the Siren's song. The Mandalorian smiled as she pouted. He wasn't sure whether it was due to the kiss ending or that he'd gained possession of the treasure without her knowledge.

"Go check on the others," he said nodding back towards the community center. "We'll meet up for supper to decide our next course."

"And what will you be doing in the meantime?" she demanded, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

With a wink, he pulled on his helmet and started to head in the general direction of the Outcast. "I'm going to secure this," he held up the Siren's Song, "until we figure out what to do with it." After briefly touching his forehead to hers in a keldabe kiss he turned and headed toward the freighter.

Jarek didn't bother to look and see of Era did as he'd suggested. He trusted her to do the right thing. Each member of the crew was still dealing with Gare's death in their own way. Tersen had busied himself with technical repairs on some of the settlement's equipment. Madlyn would be nursing the mother of all hangovers for the third morning in a row. If he wasn't looking after Madlyn, Slick would most likely be helping Tersen. The Mandalorian looked forward to finding out for sure at suppertime.

As he made his way toward the improvised landing pad, he couldn't help but notice the world around him. The residents were going about their daily routines; commuters went to work while the homebodies tended to chores. A group of children ran past kicking a ball in some improved game. There didn't appear to be any set rules or goal but by the laughter of the children and nearby onlookers, it didn't matter. The sight brought a smile to the Mandalorian's face. Despite the many injustices of the galaxy life went on. Ryll was mined, water harvested, and children played.

Jarek was struck by how far the settlement had grown since their first arrival. It had evolved from a scattering of ramshackle prefabricated structures into an actual town. The community center was now accompanied by an office building and a catch-all supply store. A proper cantina was in the process of being built along with a small refinery that would process the raw ryll spice as it was produced. Likewise, a series of temporary landing sites had been cleared to allow small freighters and transports like the Outcast to land and take on cargo.

In over a month New Meen had transformed from a mining settlement into an actual community. Jarek wondered how the fledgling town would grow in another month or two. As much as Jarek wanted to move forward a part of him felt invested in the future of the little colony. Maybe, just maybe, once he'd settled his affairs he'd return. Ancestors knew the crew enjoyed their time with the Twi'leks.

On one of their longer layovers at New Meen Jarek recalled Madlyn and Slick somehow corralling the residence and the entire crew into an impromptu game of smashball. The exceptionally rough sport had left everyone involved with scrapes, bruises, and a few bloody noses, but also plenty of smiles.

"No charge for matchmaking," Madlyn had joked as winners and losers shared cold home-brew afterward. Her words reverberated as he saw a group of twi'leks intermingling with a group of Teemo's former slaves. There were quite a few familiar smiles amongst them.

"Life does go on," Jarek thought as he drew near the Outcast. As he mounted the loading ramp, he caught sight of the storm he'd spied earlier. His earlier prediction had been wrong, the system was defiantly heading toward the settlement. Great billowing clouds of dust rolled skyward concealing the flashes of lightning muffling the claps of thunder. Idly going about their tasks and giving the approaching storm cursory glances, the locals didn't appear all that concerned. If they weren't worried, he wasn't, though he did comm the crew to warn them about the bad weather approaching.

As he entered the ship, in the back of his mind Jarek hoped Jacek made it to Nabat safely.

Without the presence of the crew or the steady hum of the engines, Jarek found the ship eerily quiet. On reflex, he quickly went through the craft checking each room and compartment. All were empty. The ship was his home but without his crew-his family-present, it felt hollow.

Though with no life to be found signs of life persisted. The galley was littered with empty bottles of alcohol, while the engine room was a mess of tools and parts. Even the rec-room held evidence of Jarek's earlier presence in the form of bloodstains on the punching bags surface.

Contrary to the existence of life were the clear reminders of death. Though Era had thoroughly cleaned the Med-bay, Gare's vacant gurney made Jarek's throat tighten. Likewise, the sight of the gank's bunk, still unmade from the last time he slept in it, caused Jarek's heart to ache. The Mandalorian wasn't sure what to do with Gare's few belongings. They didn't need to remain unsecured, but It still felt too soon to pack them away. Unwilling to contemplate the issue he pushed the thought aside for later.

Somewhere beyond the freighter's hull, Jarek heard the rumble of the storm as it encroached upon the settlement. He decided to focus on the task at hand. The sooner he stowed the Siren's Song the sooner he could rejoin his crew and be sheltered from the coming storm.

He went to a series of storage lockers in the cargo-bay. A couple of them housed gear the crew might need for excursions into hazardous environments. A few well-insulated ones held supplies. A reinforced one contained high-value items.

The female Mandalorian's armor lay neatly stacked on one side of the reinforced storage locker along with her weapons. The body had been spaced en route to Ryloth though Slick had enough foresight to suggest keeping the equipment. In hindsight, Jarek applauded the pantoran's wisdom.

Jarek had been unsure what to do with the armor. Being made of quality beskar he was loath to just sell it off. At that moment as he handled the Siren's Song, he realized a potential use. Era had made the commitment to adopt his culture as her own. In order to do so, she would need her own set of beskar'gam. Of course, it needed a few alterations and she would have to customize it to fit her abilities and personality, but the idea held merit. He decided he'd broach the subject later once they figured out their next destination

Inside a lockbox, Jarek placed the Siren's Song along with the green jewel and the rolls of parchment Gare had secured from Vortga's palace. Though Era had yet to identify or appraise the other two discoveries, he figured between the three treasures the crew stood to make a tidy sum. Enough to get them out of Hutt space for good, he hoped. At that point, he'd take anything if it meant getting his crew away from any system controlled by the Cartels.

There was another clap of thunder accompanied by the howls of wind. If Jarek listened, he could hear the steady 'tink' of the sand particles striking the hull. The storm was breaking on the settlement. If he didn't hurry, he would be stuck on the ship until it passed. If the sandstorms on Tatooine were any indication, then Ryloth's would be just as dangerous. Even in full armor, he wouldn't risk walking around in one. He quickly stowed the treasure and locked the storage container.

The air of the cargo bay seemed to shift causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. The hollow feeling of the ship suddenly felt off as if a new presence was struggling to fill the void.

With a sudden jolt of alarm, Jarek Orion realized he was no longer alone on the ship. He spun drawing and leveling his blaster at the only possible place an intruder could gain entry; the cargo ramp. The weapon zeroed in on a figure silhouetted against the storm-ravaged light…and he froze.

"Hello Jarek," the figure greeted his deep voice growling like crushed gravel. Crystal blue eyes stared unfazed passed the weapon pointed at him and directly into Jarek's visor. Somehow those eyes found his despite the polarization and he felt his entire being go limp in shock.

"…father?"


	9. Chapter 8 Lonliness

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 8: Loneliness**

**Ryloth; New Meen; Onboard the **_**Outcast**_**:**

The blaster waivered before falling to Jarek's side. His breath came in sharp gasps if it came at all. The man stood tall and looking as impassive as the visor of a _buc'ye._ Eyes so crystal blue they might cut you if they stared hard enough. His grey tinged hair and beard were shorn short, but nothing could conceal the aged wisdom Jarek knew so readily.

"Father?" Jarek said still struggling to reconcile the swirl of emotions with the physical human being before him. This was no dream, nor was the storm playing tricks on his mind. The man, wearing only modest traveling clothes, was Myler. His father.

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of the older man's lips, and ever so slightly he nodded.

The blaster clattered to the deck as he ran towards the man who raised him. Unable to stem the tide the wellspring of emotion broke forth. "_My'buir_," he gasped. Still raw from the last several days Jarek couldn't stop himself from openly weeping as he held the one person he'd thought to never see again.

Myler hesitated only for a moment before wrapping his arms around his son. In an instant Jarek felt like a child again, standing above a cistern while his solitary parent embraced him, soothing the pains away. "It's alright, _verd'ika_. I am here. I am here."

It was several minutes before Jarek regained enough of his self-control that he was able to pry himself away. So many questions ran through his mind he scarcely knew where to begin. His father hushed him and gestured that they find a spot to sit. Jarek agreed and lead the way to the galley. Along the way, he sheepishly gathered up the blaster he'd dropped.

Noting the way Myler eyes sliced towards the pantry upon entry, Jarek hastily offered up food and beverage. The offer was politely accepted. The man had never been dainty when he ate, but the way he practically inhaled the protein bars and fluids indicated a long time living off of short rations.

Jarek's mind was still running rampant that he was unable to wait for the man to finish eating his fill. "_My'buir_, I…I don't know where to begin," he blubbered. Jarek was so excited he barely gave his father time to answer. "How? How are you here right now?"

Myler took a drink and cleared his throat before speaking. "I've been searching for you for some time." Finishing off the last of the food he continued to explain, "Tatooine, Ryloth, Toydaria, Nar Shaddaa and now here." He ticked off a finger as he identified each location. After he named off the last planet, he offered up a relieved smile. "Four cycles of tracking and I've finally found you."

Four cycles! That meant Myler had started looking for him almost immediately after the _Verd'Goten._ Jarek had been on the run, picking his destinations at random, never staying long in a single place for fear of discovery. And still, Myler had been able to follow his trail. No one truly knew his mind the way his father did. "You were always the better hunter _My'buir_." They shared a knowing smile before Myler poured himself another glass of juice.

After fleeing Mandalorian Space Jarek was desperate to evade his pursuers. Thus early on the young man often eschewed his armor as it drew too much attention. It wasn't until he reached Hutt Space that he finally felt it time to don the beskar, for what was a Mandalorian without his armor.

With that thought in mind, Jarek became aware of Myler's current wardrobe. "What happened to your armor, father?"

Myler actually looked a bit embarrassed as he answered. "The _beskar_ drew too much attention. I needed to find you quickly." That explained the embarrassment. A Mando rarely removed his _beskar'gam_, and Jarek barely recalled an instance where Myler forwent his. The older man must've felt naked without it. The fact Myler would put himself through such anxiety just to locate Jarek touched him more than any word of affection.

Jarek didn't need to ask but couldn't help himself. His father had been through so much to get to him, he felt a need to know the reasoning that brought him so far from home. "Why were you looking for me?"

A grave expression fell across the older man's face. He paused only to push the dishes to the side. Clasping his hands upon the table Myler met Jarek's gaze. The young man felt a chill run up his spine. "I heard stories." The words were barely above a whisper and yet they twisted in Jarek's gut. "Rumors of what happened on the mountain. Of what you did…" The final sentence trailed off and Jarek could sense a myriad of emotions rolling off his father. Disappointment coupled with a vague hope that what he heard might not be true. The guilt and shame were almost too much for Jarek to bear.

Jarek steeled himself and met Myler's gaze. He'd had four cycles to mull over every aspect of his exodus. While he despised the disgrace it had brought on his father, Jarek ultimately stood by his decision. "I escaped father," he declared. Swallowing the lump in his throat he pressed on hoping that he might at least validate his choice within his father's eyes. "I couldn't…be what Death Watch wanted me to be." Standing Jarek bowed his head to the man who'd raised and trained him. The man on whom all his glories and sins were reflected upon. "I have striven to live up to your beliefs as best I could, but I am sorry if I could not be the Mandalorian you expected me to become."

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. For a moment he feared Myler would leave, disgusted with his son's actions. The thought constricted in Jarek's chest and yet he continued to bow. He held his pose even as the muscles in his back began to burn. As with any child to a parent, or student to a teacher Myler owed respect and honor, both of which Jarek's choices had violated. They were unforgivable, and yet Jarek had to try. He loved his father too much not to try.

"My son," Jarek flinched at the soft tone, but refused to look up, that was until Myler tilted his face up to look at his. There was sadness and yes disappointment, but within those blue eyes, Jarek also saw love and pride. "You are every inch the Mando I expected to find."

Jarek's relief was almost tangible. He hadn't dared dream to hear such words, and yet there they were. He could only nod in acceptance and Myler returned it with an affectionate smile.

"Now tell me what's happened," Myler asked retaking his seat, "How did you end on Ryloth of all places."

And just like that, the moment was over. Myler was back to his business, as usual, no-nonsense self. Mandalorians seldomly lingered on such heavy emotional themes. Even as an Outcast Myler was every inch the stoic icon of his people.

Clearing his throat Jarek brought his mind back to the here and now. "It's a long story," he asserted retaking his own chair across from his father. Myler indicated the storm that was still throwing itself against the hull of the _Outcast_. His gesture seemed to say, '_I believe we have the time_.' Shrugging Jarek began his tale. He recounted that after leaving Mandalorian Space he fled to the Outer Rim to start a new life. After a few odd jobs, he came to work for Teemo the Hutt.

"How'd you earn a job like that?" Myler interjected.

"I did what you taught me," Jarek replied with no small measure of pride, "I hunted." And hunt he did, tracking bounties from the oridium mines of Gavos to the palaces of Onderon. He told of how he met Madlyn and Slick and the misadventures they'd been through. As he recounted their times together Myler seemed enamored with the details of his crew.

"I would very much like to speak to this Pilot friend of yours," Myler declared appearing genuinely interested, "And the Pantoran hunter."

Jarek beamed with delight at his father's eagerness to meet his crew. "You will father," he assured, "You will."

"And what of women?" The inquiry caught Jarek by surprise almost as much as the cheeky half-smile his father displayed. "Is there a certain one, or many?"

The brashness of the question nearly made Jarek blush, especially since it came from his father. Then again, Myler was no fool. He had to know his son would not abstain entirely. Regaining his composure Jarek answered honestly, "I met a few over the years, but now, there is one _My'buir_." And so Jarek told his father about Era; how they met and more importantly how she made him feel.

Myler closed his eyes as if recalling some long-lost memory; perhaps of his long-dead wife. Jarek didn't press and allowed the man time with his thoughts. After a moment of introspection, the older Mandalorian smiled at his son. "I would like to meet her as well." Jarek nodded assuring him that he would meet them all as soon as the storm broke.

The storm in question was still going at full force. Every so often a particularly nasty gale would buffet the freighter ever so slightly. After checking to make sure the docking clamps were anchoring the ship Jarek rejoined his father. He also attempted to call the other but unfortunately, all he got was static. Jarek would have to wait the storm out.

Since time was certainly on their side Jarek proceeded with his tale. He explained in detail about their escape from Mos Shuuta and the series of events that lead to their return. Myler didn't seem surprised by how they managed to rid themselves of Teemo's oppression. He was however impressed by their ingenuity.

"And this ship?" Myler asked gesturing about them, "Where did it come from?" Jarek answered by recalling their run-in with Captain Gideon and his merry band. The memory, unfortunately, reminded him of their reason for even returning to Ryloth. Myler seemed to sense where Jarek's mood had gone. "I heard you held a funeral for one of your crewmates," he asked in soft measured tones, "What happened?"

Jarek had known the question would come. He'd danced around the subject of Gare throughout his storytelling. It was inevitable that he would have to explain what had happened.

"His name was Gare…" and with that, he told his father of the many deeds of his friend and crewmate. Tricking pirates, defending the group against Grabworms, and standing up to a droid assassin. Then it came time to explain the events surrounding Pybus and Gare's ultimate fate. As he told the story he could see the moments leading up to the former gladiator's death playing out before his eyes. It was all he could do to keep the grief and anger out of his voice.

Myler knew better. "He died well, Jarek," he whispered assumingly, "Always remember that."

His father's words pleased him, but as much as Jarek wanted to believe them, as much as he wanted to honor Era's wishes, he could not allow himself to. "He died because of me," he hissed in a mixture of guilt and rage, "Gaegan-the Death Watch killed him because of me."

"Yes, they did," Myler stated causing Jarek to look up at him. His tone was sharp and commanding. "You broke ties with the Watch _verd'ika_, and Gare paid the price for that." He leaned forward and jabbed a forefinger into the table to emphasize his point. "You need to accept that and move forward."

Jarek hung his head in shame. It felt like he was being scolded for taking the shot at the grazer to soon. If he expected his father to coddle and assure him all would be well, he should've known better. Myler was being blunt in order to drive the point home. He was right, just as Era had been right, but that didn't make the choice any easier. Myler seemed to realize this. Catching his gaze, the older Mandalorian added, "Honor his death by taking responsibility for your actions and do what's necessary to not let his sacrifice be in vain."

Like with every lesson his father had ever taught him it struck right at the heart of the issue. Jarek would take responsibility but he also had to accept Gare's actions were his own. He was reminded of the promise he'd made at Gare's funeral. Jarek would honor his friend, by not letting his acts of heroism be forgotten and that he would do whatever it took to bring those who wronged them to justice.

That promise would become his oath.

"It has been a struggle," Jarek admitted before staring up at his father. Something in his gaze caused Myler to blink in surprise and sit back. "But I will do as you have taught me _My'buir_." His voice rose as hope swelled within his chest. "I will honor Gare by doing what I should've done a long time ago." That glow of hope blossomed into an inferno of aspiration. "I'm going to destroy Death Watch."


	10. Chapter 9 Acceptance

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 9: Acceptance**

**Ryloth: New Meen: Onboard the Outcast:**

"I'm going to destroy Death Watch."

Myler looked at him, face blank. Only the rapid blinking of his eyes indicated his surprise. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times before finally speaking. "There are easier ways to die Verd'ika." Jarek looked down at his father in confusion, "And easier ways still to end the lives of your crewmates."

That last statement stung a bit but Jarek was undeterred from his path. "They have done so much to hurt us. Hurt our people."

Shaking his head Myler pressed a hand to his chest declaring, "Death Watch unites our people. They preserve our traditions." He gestured at Jarek who was still surprised at Myler's words, "You know this!"

"They murder their own!" he exclaimed confused after everything they'd spoken of why Myler would defend the very people who tried to kill him.

"So have you Jarek!" Myler shouted slamming a fist on the table causing the dishes to jump. His father's eyes were wide with exasperation and resentment.

Jarek was stunned by the statement and he couldn't help but look away. He had indeed killed many of his fellow Mandalorians. At the time it had been out of the instinct to survive, but now what he was proposing was tantamount to an execution-genocide even. Did he really have the moral imperative to do such a thing? The images of Jilo and Gare flashed before his eyes were answers enough. They were followed by the face of a nameless Mandalorian woman demanding, "Why? Why would you do this?" her tears matched those he'd shed all too often recently.

"It is the right thing to do." Jarek said his tone and gaze equally unwavering, "Maybe once upon a time Death Watch represented the best of our people. But Ja'Halir and beings like Gaegan have twisted it into something ugly that must be destroyed."

Myler's expression fell as if all his hopes had been dashed by Jarek's words. Rubbing his eyes Myler looking as if the trials of the last few cycles were finally catching up to him. "_Verd'ika_," he sighed "Ja'halir will not allow you to bring further harm to the Watch."

Something in the way Myler spoke felt off to Jarek. He could almost sense the certainty in the words. It was less like he was offering a logical reason and more like making a declarative statement. But how could Myler know what Ja'halir would or would not allow? Unless…

Jarek's breath caught in his chest. Ice trickled down his spine as the question came unbidden to his lips. "_My'buir_…why were you trying to find me?"

Myler froze, his jaw working again for several moments before he spoke, "Verd'ika, I already told you-"

"Because you heard a rumor," Jarek cut in, clammy fingers slowly curling into fists, "Who told you the rumor when _Dar'Manda_ are not allowed to speak to members of the clan?"

"Jarek…please sit." There was something in Myler's eyes that Jarek had never seen before. It was akin to panic. Myler was realizing he'd made a mistake.

"My'buir…why have you be searching for me?" Jarek was standing now, looming over the man he'd loved and trusted his entire life. The man who taught him how to track and hunt, who'd healed his wounds.

"Jarek sit," Myler pleaded, trying and failing to maintain his blank expression. Only his voice retained its calm even tone. "I'll explain."

This was the man who'd crossed lightyears and had given up his armor just to track down his son for answers. Yet he sat defending the monster that killed Jilo, killed Gare, and would kill him. Jarek wanted…no…needed to know his true intentions.

"_My'buir_…" he breathed, voice quivering with barely restrained anger, "what happened to your armor?"

Myler's chest was heaving. Behind his stormy gaze, his mind was working a mile a minute. Suddenly his shoulders relaxed, and a look of calmness dawned on his face. No, a look of acceptance. "My armor bore the colors of a Dar'Manda," he stated flatly, "Ja'Halir gave me new colors."

Jarek's eyes widened at the declaration. Ja'halir had given him new colors to adorn his armor. Armor, he hadn't wanted Jarek to see because it would have tipped him off. That could only mean one thing…

Myler stood straight acknowledging Jarek's thought with a slight tilt of his chin. "I am tasked with returning you home Jarek. You must face the consequences for your actions."

The words struck with the weight of a charging broadhead. Everything Myler had said up until that point suddenly took on new meaning. He had truly been interested in the crew or his life. Myler had been only interested in gather intel on his prey. The overwhelming sense of betrayal sent his thought reeling. It was all Jarek could do just to stay on his feet. "My actions?" he exclaimed in utter bewilderment.

"You betrayed the Watch," Myler said his calm voice at odds with the turmoil raging within Jarek's soul. "You murdered your fellow Mandalorians. Please return with me," Myler was practically pleading, "State your case before the clan so that you might earn some mercy." It felt like Jarek's heart was being ripped from his chest and yet all his father was concerned with was validating his own choices.

"Mercy!?" Jarek exclaimed, his voice matching the storm pitch for pitch. "Do you know what Death Watch's mercy looks like?" His fists were practically shaking, and it was only by sheer force of will that he could maintain a coherent thought. "Their mercy is a beskad through the chest of a young girl! It is countless sleepless nights on the run!" He stabbed a finger in the direction of the funeral. "It is a burnt-out pyre where my friend was laid to rest!"

"I know!" Myler shouted, his voice breaking beneath the strain.

"You know?" Jarek questioned taken aback by his pronouncement.

A cloud of bitter turmoil raged about Myler. A look of resentment and sadness were quickly overshadowed by determination. Staring up at his son Myler explained, "Yes…I know all about the sleepless nights." His voice was quivering with emotion as if relieved and ashamed by what he was confessing. "I know about the Mandos who attacked you on Tatooine." His jaw was clenched once again as he forced himself to reveal what Jarek was starting to realize, "I know because…"

In the ugliest pit of his stomach, he knew the answer. He knew because there was only one-way Myler could know as much as he did. "Because why, father?" Jarek's fists were clenched and his teeth bared.

"Because I have been the one hunting you Jarek!" The words struck like a blow to the gut and all the air left Jarek's lungs. At the same time, the rage that he'd been struggling to maintain erupted up to the surface.

The blaster had cleared the holster before Jarek could even think. The barrel was aimed directly between his father's eyes. His heart was pulsing in his ears and he was struggling to take even the calmest of breaths. "Why!?" he demanded so loud it threatened his vocal cords. It was all he could do to keep the red haze from descending over his vision as it had in the past. "Why you!?"

Staring passed the weapon, Myler was as unfazed by his sons twitching trigger finger as by the storm that battered the hull. As with so many times before, Myler's gazed found his through the visor with ease. Beneath that soul-searching parental gaze, Jarek felt like a child again. His aim wavered.

Myler moved with blinding speed. In a blink, the Westar-35 was flipped from Jarek's grip and into the hand of his father. The barrel was now aimed directly at him. Myler didn't aim for the head though. Instead, he targeted the junction between helmet and collar. The Beskar could shed a point-blank shot, but the armor-weave of the vest could not. As befitting a hunter of his caliber Myler chose his target well.

Holding his aim steady, the older Mandalorian looked directly into Jarek's eyes. "Because I am your father." The revelation brought no comfort to the young man, but it did make sense. If anyone had a chance to bring Jarek in it was the very man who raised and trained him.

Another sick realization occurred to Jarek as he stared down the old man. "Then you were on Pybus as well," he hissed feeling the moisture trickling down his cheeks. "You were working with Gaegan." Myler didn't have to answer. His silence was confirmation enough. The young man felt disgusted. "They offered you a place within the clan then." It wasn't a question. Jarek knew what his father's greatest desire had always been. "Was that the price for hunting down your own child?" Jarek tilted his chin up in defiance, giving his father an even cleaner shot at his exposed neck. "Well then, go ahead. I'd rather die by your hand then by the blade of that hutuune."

They held one another's gaze, neither blinking nor shifting. An unseen war of wills. Any second Jarek was sure he'd be blinded by the muzzle flash before the searing heat ruptured his throat. As much as he wanted to continue living, he also wanted his crew safe. Era, Madlyn, Slick, Terson, none of them deserved the same fate as Gare. If his death assured their safety, then so be it.

"Ret'urcye mhi aliit," he thought, his mind bringing forth the faces of his crew. Era's elegant face floated before him and he felt a sense of serenity. "Ret'urcye mhi cyare. You are still alive, but I am dead. Remember me, so that I might be eternal." And so Jarek Orion waited for the end to come.

The sound of a solid weight hitting the table shook Jarek back the here and now. Myler had slammed the weapon down but was still staring directly at his son.

After several moments of silence, Myler spoke, his voice soft and even. "Much has already been taken from you. Gare's death was regrettable. You were the sole target." Straightening Myler released the blaster. Placing a hand to his chest he said, "On my honor, I had no desire to include your crew in this vendetta."

Jarek was shocked at the turn of events but made no move to retake the weapon. Myler had already proven he was much faster and could disarm him in an instant. Though the blaster was no longer trained on him, Jarek wasn't entirely sure he nor his crew were out of immediate danger. "If it's me you want then take me," he stated even going so far as to hold out his arms to be cuffed. "But leave my crew out of it." Even if it meant throwing himself at the mercy of Ja'halir, Jarek wanted no harm to come to his family.

Myler made no move to attack or take him as a prisoner. Instead, he stepped back towards the galley's exit. "Rest assured if you continue on this path, they will share in your fate." The threat was clear, and Myler meant every word, but then both his words and gaze softened. "You have lost a valued comrade and friend. I understand the feeling." Somehow Jarek could sense the empathy rolling off of his father. The man did indeed know what he was going through. "I will give you this time to mourn. You deserve that much." He stepped out of the Galley and headed towards the cargo hold. Jarek followed still unsure what exactly was transpiring. Only moments earlier he'd been seconds from death and now his would-be executioner was simply walking away.

At the top of the ramp, Myler turned to stare directly at his son once more. "Afterwards, no matter the choice; run, hide, it doesn't matter. The Death Watch will have its justice." Before Jarek could come up with a reply, Myler turned and exited the Outcast. Jarek stepped forward to try and stop him but the elder Mandalorian had already disappeared into the swirling dust storm. Myler's final words echoed in Jarek's mind. They held no arrogance or maliciousness. They were a promise. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday Myler would return and he would bring the wrath of the Death Watch with him.

Myler had proven he would go to the ends of the galaxy to track down his son. He was duty-bound to return him to the clan. Jarek couldn't help but wonder if Myler would go so far as to actually kill his entire crew to get to him.

The answer was obvious, "…if you continue on this path, they will share in your fate." Jarek could not…would not allow that to happen. His oath still stood.


	11. Chapter 10 Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games, I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain, I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

**Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief**

**Chapter 10: Hope**

**Ryloth: New Meen:**

The storm passed almost as quickly as it had started. A few sand drifts had built up along the sunward sides of a few structures. Other than bits of flotsam and jetsam the settlement had weathered the blasting winds with little damage.

Era was grateful to have been in the community center when the first flurries struck. She'd experienced similar storms on Tatooine. Winds moved sand particles at such phenomenal speeds that they would strip paint off of duristeel. The center had stood as a bulwark against the onslaught protecting its inhabitants throughout the night.

Aside from Era, the other members of the crew had sought shelter there along with a handful of locals, unable to make it back home in time. Jarek was the only one not present. Era had attempted to contact him but other than getting a broken confirmation he'd made it to the ship the comms had gone silent. A local informed her the lightning heavily ionized the dust clouds. The ionization disrupted all communication equipment for kilometers around.

Comforted by the fact he was safe on the freighter Era had settled in with the others to wait out the storm. They passed the time with stories, and games of sabacc and dejarik. During that time Era had taken stock of the crew. By having one another for support Madlyn and Slick were coping the best. Terson had found comfort in helping B'ura get Gurhikan and the other freed slaves settled. Every so often she caught them staring off into the distance before snapping back to reality. She knew they were thinking of their lost companion because she'd been doing the same thing; wondering about what might've been. They were all dealing with Gare's absence in their own way, but at least they were dealing with it.

Era had Jarek and vice versa, but she wasn't sure her Mandalorian was processing the loss as well as the others. The man still felt wholly responsible for Gare's death. She was worried that, left to his own devices Jarek might do something drastic. Fortunately, the storm would keep him in place until she had a chance to speak with him. The very thought of expressing her feelings made Era's stomach flutter in nervous excitement. Sure, she was worried about whether or not Jarek felt the same way, but the 'not-knowing' was more nerve-wracking than anything.

Once the locals deemed it safe to exit, the crew exited the community center. While the others spread out to help the settlers, Era headed to the _Outcast_. Unsurprisingly the ship had been locked up tight against the storm. Activating her comm-link Era called out, "Jarek, its Era, storms over. Can you open the cargo doors?"

No response. Era wondered if the ionized clouds were still affecting her gear. Pulling out her datapad she hit a series of command prompts that disengaged the locks. The cargo ramp opened with a hiss of hydraulics. She stepped up before the ramp had even touched the ground.

"Jarek," she called out expecting to see the armored form of her lover step into view. The _Outcast_ remained strangely silent. "Must be sleeping," she mused and hurried to the upper-deck and their shared cabin. The room was vacant. The bed remained unused since that morning. His armor rack was also empty.

Odd. Had she missed him enroute to the ship? As she headed back down to the cargo bay Era activated the group channel on her comm-link. "Anyone seen Jarek? He's not on the ship."

"Not at the refinery," Tersen replied first.

"Nor with us at the community center," Slick stated. In the background, Madlyn commented he might be elsewhere in the settlement. They all agreed to try and get in touch with him. He might've gotten stuck during the storm. Era decided to comb the rest of the ship just in case she'd missed him.

The _Outcast_ wasn't a large vessel, smaller than most medium commercial haulers, but there were still plenty of places one could be overlooked. In the galley she found the remains of a meal, indicating the Mando had been on the ship long enough to eat. Next, she searched the med-bay and rec-room followed by the engine room and both docking bays. All were empty.

About that time Madlyn's voice came over the comm-link. "No sign of him."

"B'ura's people haven't seen him either," Tersen added a few moments later.

Unease was beginning to creep into Era's mind. Her earlier concerns about Jarek were starting to increase. Turning she practically sprinted up the steps to her room. There was one thing she hadn't checked earlier. Her heart was hammering in her chest as the hatch hissed open at a touch. In two quick strides, she was at the wardrobe pulling the door aside.

"Oh Jarek…" she sighed.

All was as it should be. Spare clothes were arrayed across the shelves in neat rows. Her emerald green dress hung exactly where it had since Geonosis. Only one thing was missing that filled her with dread. Jarek's Go-Bag.

The small duffle bag had been just large enough to accommodate three days' worth of supplies. A change of clothes, a few hundred credits, emergency rations, and a field medical kit. Just enough gear for someone to disappear.

In its place sat a data chip. Fingers trembled as Era picked it up. Inserting it into her data-pad a single file appeared. It was a short voice recording, barely four minutes in length. The weight of its contents was enough to double the young woman over and fill her eyes with tears.

Clutching the data-pad to her chest she sobbed, "Jarek…no…"

/My friends…I must leave you. If I stay, I risk my sins being visited upon you. So long as I am hunted those that I care for will become targets. I will not allow Gare's fate to be yours as well.

Do not follow me. By the time you hear this, I'll have left the planet. I don't expect you to forgive me though I ask that you understand. I must do this on my own.

This crew…this family has meant more to me than you'll know. I will cherish those memories every second of every day. I know I have not right to, but I ask one thing. Stay together. Keep the Outcast flying/

Era terminated the recording. The rest of the crew stood around in various stages of stunned silence. When Era had summoned them back to the ship, they hadn't known what to expect. Crowded in the galley she played the recording for them all to hear. By then she had regained enough self-control to stem the flow of tears. The other's reactions wavered between outrage and bewilderment.

"How can he just leave?" Madlyn demanded, "after everything we've been through, that," she jabs a finger at the data-pad, "That is all we get."

Slick was pacing the length of the table, his normally genteel expression gone. "It makes no sense! Why just up and leave without a proper explanation!" he spat.

"Gare's ashes are barely cold," Tersen growled savagely, "And he runs off to do what? Play hero?"

The group ranted and raved alternating between insulting their captain, debating on where he went, to arguing what their next course of action should be. Era let them. She was still struggling to comprehend Jarek's justification for leaving. Had she not told him Gare's death wasn't his fault, and that they were all in this together? She mulled over everything he had ever told her in regard to his past. Gare's death was not the only death that weighed on him. The girl Jilo hung heavy in his heart. Death Watch had taken so much from him including the sanctity of his new life.

"Jarek is trying to protect us," she finally said. Her voice was barely above a whisper and yet it brought silence to the room. "Death Watch has hunted him across the galaxy and now we're in the crossfire. Jarek doesn't want us hurt for his faults."

"We can handle ourselves," Madlyn said indignantly obviously thinking of all they had been through during and after Mos Shuuta.

"Pirates and Grabworms, aren't Death Watch," Era stated gravely. "Jarek knows what their capable of and he wants to protect us from that."

"By running away?" Tersen asked angrily.

Slick shook his head as a look of understanding crossed his face. "He's not running anymore." Looking at the rest of the crew he sighed. "The fool is going on the hunt."

"If he has then there's still a chance, we might catch him," Madlyn said excitedly. She started towards the door but was stopped by Era. The Alderanni looked fit to argue when she noticed the heartfelt empathy on her face. "You don't want to follow him."

Era didn't shake her head or offer any sort of rebuttal. She merely stated, "Jarek's fate is not in our hands." Her words cast a dire shadow across the group. Dejected eyes looked downward.

"Then that's it," Tersen sighed hopelessly, cradling a moaning Peedo, "Gare's dead. Our captain has abandoned us." Shrugging, the lannik's shoulders drooped all the lower, "What's next?"

Stepping to the side Era placed a consoling hand on the technician's shoulder. They locked eyes. "Jarek's final wish is that we stay together." Through the cloud of despair and expression of grim determination broke through. Looking right Era gripped Madlyn's shoulder. "So, we do that." The Pilot shared Tersen's smile. "We keep the _Outcast_ flying." Slick mirrored Era's motions and held Madlyn and Terson in solidarity. "Give him something to come back to."

The group quickly discovered Jarek had braved the high winds to hijack a speeder-bike to facilitate is escape. The moment the storm had let up he took off for Nabat. A quick check in with Nyn revealed the Mandalorian had bartered passage for the mid-rim. Once he got to his next destination, Era had no doubt Jarek would jump over to another ship bound for parts unknown. The man would make it next to impossible to track him down. She shouldn't be surprised. Jarek had spent four cycle perfecting his ability to stay ahead of Death Watch.

Era berated herself for ever letting Jarek out of her sight until she was sure he was okay. If she had stayed with him perhaps, she could've stopped him from going alone. Jarek claimed he was doing this in order to protect the crew. In his altruism, he forgot that as a crew their strength lay in unity.

So long as the crew of the Outcast held true to one another, then they would not allow Jarek to fight this battle on his own. They would do as he asked; keep the _Outcast_ flying. But when Jarek Orion needed them, his family would be there.

She'd left the crew to contend with other matters while she dealt with another more personal issue. Jarek had left another message seconds after the first. This one he'd addressed directly to her.

/Era…_ner kar'ta_…you are strong and will do well in life. A man could not ask for a better woman. Take care of our _aliit_ and know wherever I am your image is never far from my eyes, your voice from my ear, and your name from my lips. I won't ask you to wait for me, but should I fail to return I want you to know…_ni kar'tayli gar darasuum_. _Ret'urcye mhi ner_ _cyare_./

Her previously developed self-control now evaporated allowing her emotions to run forth. Jarek's final words to her were those of love and devotion. They may also be the last one she ever heard him speak. In so many ways his message filled her with joy and sadness.

Era wanted Jarek to know how she felt…somehow.

Touching the communications terminal, she set up a recording to be broadcast on all open frequencies. If Jarek was still in the current or neighboring systems, he would receive it. "I know you're out there" she paused to swallow the lump in her throat, "And I know you'll eventually hear me." Era stared deeply into the terminal hoping that some of her earnestness might translate through the machine. "I want you to know…we're never giving up. Wherever you've gone…we'll find you." A teardrop fell and splashed across the keyboard. "I will find you."

**Kalevala: Four Cycle Ago:**

"Gaegan and his team failed to exact justice," Ja'halir stated, the unseen injury adding an unnatural lisp to his voice, "Jarek's treason cannot go unanswered." The _buy'ce_ tilted forward just enough that Myler could see himself reflected in the visor. He no longer wore the colors of an individual warrior, but instead, he saw a man wearing the uniform grey and blue of a Death Watch Warrior.

"Long have you served the clan," continued staring down at the kneeling veteran. "Even in defeat, you chose exile over disgrace." There was respect and pride in Ja'halir's every word. Myler couldn't help but wonder if such tones had enticed Jarek's loyalty as it now did his. "As an Outcast, you honored your house by raising a Foundling to benefit the clan."

The words were measured and precise. They had the desired effect of reminding him not just of his success in training Jarek, but also in his failure in not instilling greater loyalty to the _Kyr'tsad_.

"His betrayal is a mark upon my name." Standing Myler placed a hand on his chest, "I am duty-bound to bring him back into the fold."

Ja'halir nodded, an act made difficult by the still healing wound received during Jarek's escape. The elder cadre maintained his poise and the words that came were strong and clear. "You are willing to cast your child upon the mercy of the Watch?"

"Loyalty is life," Myler recited earning approving nods from other assembled warriors, "For without one's clan, one has no purpose."

"This is the Way," Ja'Halir declared. The gathered clansmen to include Myler repeated the adage. "Bring Jarek back to Kalevala," he instructed, "Myler of Clan Orion."

Donning his helmet Myler stood before Ja'halir and the formation of Death Watchmen. "I vow to return with Honor, or not at all." It felt like a lifetime ago he had made a similar vow. He had failed to keep it then. Myler Orion, former _Dar'Manda_ would not fail this time. No matter what it took, he would bring Jarek back to Kalevala.


End file.
